Lonely Hearts
by Mystic Lady Fae
Summary: Shooter has fled Mort's mind and left gaps in his heart. Now Mort is lonely. What will he do to find and keep the woman of his dreams? The answer: anything! warning: sexual content!
1. Writer's Block and Reflections

Disclaimer: Don't own the plot, characters, or anyone involved with the story/movie, Secret Window.

**AN**: I know this is odd, but I decided to write a fanfic based on the sexy Mort Rainey. This story is mostly PG-13, but _there will be several rated _**(R)**_ chapters containing sexual content_. I want very much to have sexual scenes, but since NC-17 has been banned, the ones posted here will be rated **(R)**. The rated **(R) **sections will be marked, so if you don't like it, don't read it. Any and all feedback is much appreciated. Enjoy!

Chapter 1: Writer's Block and Reflections:

Tashmore Lake, NY: Third Person/Mort's POV:

Mort stared at the screen of his laptop, watching the icon blink on a blank Word page. He hadn't had a decent plotline since that shithead, Shooter, had left his body; now he regretted having lost the murderous side of his psyche. Sure, Shooter had been a murdering maniac, but he had been good for some much-needed inspiration. In fact, Shooter's rewrite of his first story, _Secret Window, Secret Garden_, had sold millions of copies, outdoing the first release and bringing more public demand for Mort's stories! Now, with that part of his mind gone, Mort was out of ideas, and his agent was seriously ticked off that he hadn't produced any stories.

Sighing, Mort took off his thick-rimmed glasses and rubbed his eyes, mentally exhausted. Things hadn't been the same since he (or rather, Shooter) had killed Ted and Amy, either. Five months after _that_ unpleasant event, Shooter had taken _complete_ _control_ of Mort's body, locking Mort in a dark prison within his own mind. However, Mort's alter-ego had eventually wearied of sharing it with his "weak side." He had also gotten annoyed at constantly being called "Mr. Rainey" whenever he had gone into town, or any other place where people recognized him as the famous author, Mort Rainey. Finally, after seven months of living in Mort's shoes, Shooter had given up and fled, tired of having to deal with real-life problems like paying bills, fixing up the house and gardens, and dealing with Mort's fans and agent. From what Mort could figure out, having to deal with real life responsibilities had changed Shooter's mind about having a body, so he'd decided to let Mort have it.

Putting his glasses back on, Mort remembered that great moment of rebirth. One minute he had been locked up in a dark, sightless prison in his mind, and the next, he had his body back. Seven months after being completely locked in his mind, Mort had woken up at his desk, his laptop in front of him, and a message typed out on the screen.

_Dear Mr. Rainey,_

_It appears that the lifestyle of a secluded writer doesn't agree with a Southern farmer like me. Although we both share the same body and mind, I can't seem to fit into the pathetically boring lifestyle that you had, and can't create a life of my own when people think of me as you. I don't like having other people greet me as someone else and have your agent tell me my writing is much too different from what it "used to be." Plus, it's really hard to kill off so many annoying people; there are just too damn many of them, and dealing with people in a civil manner just isn't me. When I had been temporarily given control of your body to your dirty work, I thought that it would be grand to have a body of my own forever. But really living your sad lifestyle was not what I had in mind. Instead, I'm returning your body to you and leaving. You don't need me anymore, but if you ever do, I'll be there._

_Luck to ya,_

_John Shooter_

_PS: I took the liberty of moving the bodies of your ex-wife and her boy-toy from the backyard to somewhere else, where no one will ever find them. I thought that it might make you feel better. Enjoy your new freedom and the corn in the backyard, too._

That had been one of the happiest moments of Mort's life. He had his body back, as well as his cabin, his car, and his life, but there was still the matter of the four people Shooter had murdered. However, Shooter had hidden Ted and Amy's remains, and the other two bodies were in the river, probably a hundred miles downstream and buried in mud by now. That had made him feel better, but not entirely. Still, Mort had destroyed all of the corn plants and searched for the bodies in the backyard, but couldn't find them, even after a week of digging for them. Shooter had been right when he said he'd hidden Ted and Amy, but Mort didn't know where his psychotic half had buried them. Even though he didn't like having to do it, Mort knew he'd just have to accept Shooter's word that Ted and Amy were safely hidden away somewhere.

"And here I am, a year after the whole incident with Shooter and the four murders, in full control of my life," he murmured, putting his feet up on the desk and leaning back. He should be content, but he wasn't. His inspiration was gone, and everyone he held dear had all been killed by the maniac side of his mind. Plus, the whole town of Tashmore Lake had expelled him from town, permanently, because he scared them out of their wits.

In other words, he was lonely.

Sighing, Mort turned his eyes towards the ceiling, trying to think of a way out of this pathetically lonely existence. He was saved from _that_ unpleasant task by the sound of the phone ringing downstairs. Springing out of his chair, Mort raced to answer it, needing human contact.

"Hello?" he said, trying to smooth his hair rumpled hair as he spoke.

"Hi, Mort?" a familiar feminine voice asked.

Mort winced. It was his agent. '_Probably calling to ask why I haven't written anything good yet_.'

"Mort, it's Tammy," she said, sounding unusually excited. "I just received a call from your publishing company, and they want you to go on a tour of the country! Isn't that great? They think they can sell more copies of your story that way. What do you think?"

Mort was in shock. A book tour? He'd never done one of those before. "Uh, that sounds great, Tammy," he said, rubbing his neck. "When do we start, and how long will this tour be?"

"The tour starts next week and is about three to four weeks," Tammy replied. "Can you handle that?"

"Sure, sure," Mort said, still rubbing his neck. "See you next week, Tammy."

He hung up the phone before collapsing on his couch. A book tour, for _his_ story? It was unbelievable! This had never happened to him before, but now it couldn't have come at a better time! He'd get to meet his fans (particularly those who were women), and he'd get out of the house for a while!

Smiling, Mort got up to go change; he had some clothes shopping to do!

* * *

Meanwhile, West Coast, USA:

I banged my head against my bedroom wall repeatedly, trying to create enough physical pain so that my emotional and psychological wounds could be ignored. When I became thoroughly dizzy, I stopped and combed my naturally red highlighted, dark-brown hair with out of my chocolate-brown eyes, blinking a few times to get the room to stop spinning.

"Why do I have to be such a loser?" I muttered to myself, rubbing my forehead. Here I am, 22-years-old, fresh out of college, and unemployed. I was short, slightly overweight, and I'd never had a boyfriend. I also had no money, a _huge_ student loan to pay off, and (what my mother called) a useless degree.

In other words, I was a loser _and_ a disappointment to the family name.

Turning around, I headed towards my waterbed and collapsed on it. My bedroom was the only place I could escape to, the one place my mother's evil presence could not be felt. This was my haven from real life. The intense gazes of unicorn, fairy, and dragon posters stared down at me, giving the room a magical, peaceful, and comforting aura that I so often needed. Flower-scented candles (_not_ lit, for fear of fire) were scattered around my shelves and filled the room with their scents, making me drowsy. I would have drifted off to sleep had it not been for the screaming coming from downstairs.

"Four years of college, and she still can't find a job!" my mother shrieked, her voice penetrating the walls of my room.

"She's only been out of school a few weeks, for God's sakes!" my father replied, his voice loud, but not louder than Mom's. He must be trying to calm her down. I snorted; good luck with _that_ one.

"Still, she should be working right now, not sitting around the house, eating and sleeping all day and playing on the computer!" God, my mom has a loud voice.

"It takes time to find work, Kat, it doesn't just happen overnight!" Dad said, still not meeting Mom's volume level. "It takes months to find work, not days! And she's been on the computer to try to find work, not playing around!"

Pulling my headphones out from my desk drawer, I quickly popped Evanescence into my CD player and listened as Amy Lee's voice filled my head. It's amazing how her voice and lyrics echoes my pain. Her clear voice crying out reflected how my soul screamed with pain whenever my mother yelled at me for being too stupid, fat, lazy, or a major shame to the family. Sighing, I stared up at my white ceiling and let my mind drift.

I must have dozed off because the next thing I knew, I was opening my eyes to a dark room. My bedroom door was cracked open (even though I _knew_ I'd closed it), and my brother, Michael, had his head poked in my room; it must have been important because he knows coming into my room while I'm having "me time" is hazardous to his health. I paused my CD so I could hear what he had to say.

"Hey, Amber?" he said, eyes darting around my room. Since he's a teenage boy, I think the unicorns, winged horses, dragons, wizards, and Elves staring down from my walls freaked him out.

"What is it now?" I asked, pulling off my headset.

"There's a phone call for you." He held up the cordless phone.

"Thanks, babe," I said. I quickly stopped my music and signaled for him to bring me the phone. Once it was safely in my possession, he quickly turned and fled for the haven of his own room, the shouts still coming from downstairs explaining why. Sighing, I shut the door before turning my attention to the phone.

"Hello?" I said, secretly hoping that it was a possible employer calling about one of my resumes.

"Hey!" a chipper voice greeted me.

"Kari!" I squealed, extremely happy to hear my best friend's voice.

"What's up? Your folks screaming bloody murder again?"

"Yeah, I think the neighbors might call the cops one day; maybe they'll take my mom to the nuthouse where she belongs!" I said, only half-joking.

Seriously, I hoped they _would_ take her away and lock her up like the wacko she really was. Her friends and co-workers would never believe that the sweet and happy person they knew and worked with could cause so much harm to her children, especially when she worked in a day-care and took such _good_ care of _other_ people's kids. There were only four people who knew her for the tremendous bitch she really was: me, Mike, my dad, and Kari, who I told everything to.

Shoving those thoughts aside, I turned my attention back to the phone. "So what's up?" I asked.

"Well, a lot, actually," she said, avoiding the question when she should have been rattling off news from her job.

'_Uh, oh, that usually means she wants something_,' I thought, bracing myself.

"You see, Amber, I need you to come to this thing with me next month," she said, trying to sound calm.

I raised my eyebrow even though I knew she couldn't see it. "What thing?" I asked, letting suspicion tinge my voice.

"Well, this author is coming to town next month, and my sister wants me to get his autograph for her since she has to work, and since her husband has to take care of the kids and my mom's visiting my grandma for that whole week, that leaves only me," Kari babbled into the phone.

I sighed into the phone. "Okay, so you want me to go with you to a bookstore, and stand in a _huge_ line for God-knows-how-long just so you can pick up an autograph for your sister?"

"Exactly!" she exclaimed in her extremely chipper voice. "Wanna go?"

Sighing again, I decided a trip out of the house would be good for my sanity. "Sure, why not?" I replied, shrugging. "I've got nothing better to do."

"Great!" Kari exclaimed.

"So what's this guy's name, anyway?" I asked, looking out my window and trying to ignore the arguments still coming from downstairs.

"Mort Rainey," came the reply.

* * *

AN: I know it's short, but please review and tell me what you think! It'll get better, I promise! 


	2. Encounters with an Author

Disclaimer: Still don't own Mort Rainey, or anything from/in the film or book, **_Secret Window_**.

AN: Please review after you read! It would mean a lot to me, and if you want me to explain the **_Secret Window_** plot to you, just ask. There will be also be changes in POVs, shifting from third-person to first-person when it's important to the plotline. Amber will usually be first person, but Mort's will vary from third- to first-person. Enjoy the chapter!

Chapter 2: Encounters with an Author:

_Over Four Weeks Later: _

_West Coast, USA: Amber's POV_:

Rolling my eyes, I tried not to drop to the floor and die of boredom. It had been almost a month since Kari's call, and here I was, standing in line with at least a hundred other people (mostly women, for some reason) to get some author's autograph for my friend's sister. After arriving late at the bookstore (due to Kari and I accidentally oversleeping), we had taken our place as the last ones in line, _slowly_ crawling towards the store's entrance as this mysterious author signed book after book for his fans. Kari was excited with being able to meet this guy. Meanwhile, I was bored out of my skull with standing there for over two hours, and serious annoyed because I had no idea who this guy was, what he wrote, or why I was even here. I was _this close_ to going nuts when we finally reached the entrance.

"This had better be worth it, Kari, or else I'm going to whoop your ass later," I murmured to her. "Who is this guy, anyway?"

Kari turned to look at me in shock. "You've never heard of Mort Rainey?" she asked. "But you love books as much as I do; you have to know who he is!"

I shook my head. "Kari, you know that we both love different types of books," I said, rolling my eyes. "I like historical, sci-fi, and fantasy books, and you like romance and mysteries."

Now it was Kari's turn to roll her eyes. "Well, Mort Rainey writes mostly psychological stories and murder mysteries," she said excitedly. "And he's really hot, too!"

I couldn't hold back my laughter. "Kari, you're so weird!" I said, smiling at her before realization dawned on me. "You're here to get his autograph for yourself! You tricked me into staying here with you while you got some hot author's signature!" Now I was seriously pissed off for having wasted my day with standing in line.

She had the decency to look guilty. "Well, yeah, but my sister really does want his autograph, too," Kari muttered. "And we don't hang out as much as we used to, so I thought we could spend the day together." She looked up and gave me her puppy-dog eyes, begging for forgiveness.

I groaned. "Well if you wanted to hang out at the mall's bookstore, you could have just asked. We could have gone shopping and done something productive, like buy books!"

Kari laughed before her mouth snapped shut, eyes going wide. "Oh my gosh, I forgot to bring my book with me!" she gasped. "I don't have anything for him to sign! Oh, God, what am I going to do?" She started wringing her hands in panic.

I couldn't stop myself from laughing. "Don't panic, Kari, it'll be okay," I said, still giggling. "Honestly, only you could forget to bring a book to a book signing. I'm sure that he'll have extra copies in there for you to buy after he's signed them, don't worry about it." I patted her shoulder in comfort as we moved forward. When we were three people away from the signing table, I was finally able to get a good look at the guy we had been waiting hours to see. Peaking around the people in front of us, I could plainly see the guy behind the table, signing a woman's book with a smile as he motioned the next person forward. That's when I realized that my best friend was right.

_This guy was_ _hot_!

He had the most soulful, dark brown eyes I'd ever seen, eyes that spoke of much suffering and loss in the past. Thick framed glasses rested on his nose, but they suited him in a way that would fit no other man. His hair, although somewhat messy and thick, was a neat mixture of brown and blond, but the blonde part was definitely winning out. His outfit of a white shirt and black blazer and pants only enhanced his good looks, and explained why the women here were drooling over him. That and the fact that he had the most luscious lips I'd ever seen...

I was jolted out of my thoughts when Kari nudged me in the side. Glaring at her, I noticed that it was almost our turn. Not wanting to take any sort of attention away from Kari, I decided to be a good friend and step back to let her have her moment with the author. I slowly edged away until I was standing near a display case full of Mr. Rainey's books. Curious about his writing style, I picked one up and began thumbing through it, trying to understand this guy's popularity. After reading a few sentences of a story called **_Secret Window_**, I understood his fame. His works were murder mysteries with some psychological twists to it, and although they were very well written, the guy was either a genius, or mentally whacked out for writing details this good and specific. Shuttering, I carefully set the book on the shelf and turned around, hoping that Kari was done getting the autographs so we could do some shopping. However, it wasn't Kari's friendly face that greeted me... I swallowed hard.

"Amber, this is Mort Rainey," Kari's voice introduced. "Mr. Rainey, this is my friend, Amber Olson."

* * *

Mort's POV:

As the last customer came up to him, Mort was relieved to finish up his tour with the fair, round, friendly face of a young woman with light brown hair and eyes. She was somewhat on the heavy side, but was quite charming in appearance. Her purple shirt, black pants and black boots fitted her perfectly, but weren't revealing or inappropriate for a girl of her size; she was actually quite pretty.

"Hello," he greeted with a smile holding out his hand for her to shake. "What's your name?"

"Oh, uh," she stuttered, blushing slightly. "Uh, my name's Kari, Kari White." She took his hand and shook it; that was when he noticed that she didn't have a book for him to sign.

"May I ask what you're going to ask me to sign for you, since you don't have a book?" Mort asked politely. He _really_ hoped that this wasn't one of those unusual fans that wanted him to sign their arm or something; he'd had enough of those over the past month to last a lifetime!

"Um, actually, I sort of forgot mine," the girl, Kari, replied as she blushed even redder. "I overslept, so I rushed out the door to pick up my friend and sort of forgot my books in the process."

"That's alright," Mort said, reaching for the last few book copies hidden under the table for this purpose. "I've got some right here. How many did you want?"

"Two," was the response. "One for me and one for my sister, Jessica."

"Oh, really?" Mort asked, smiling. He quickly scribbled out his name for the two girls and handed over the two copies. "Don't you want one for your friend?"

"Oh, she only came to keep me company."

Mort looked to the girl's left and right, searching for the young girl's companion. "And where, exactly, is your friend?"

Turning to either side, the girl seemed confused to find that her friend wasn't there. After looking around for a few moments, she spotted what she was looking for.

"There she is, over at the display case."

Mort turned his head. There stood a young woman with chin-length, dark brown hair that shone red in the bright lights, wearing a long-sleeved red blouse and black jeans, her feet clad in black sneakers. He only saw the girl's back, but Mort knew something incredible had happened the moment he'd spotted her.

He'd met his soulmate.

"What's her name?" Mort asked, standing up as he tried to gather his thoughts. Taking a deep, calming breath, he turned back towards the young fan in front of him. "Could you introduce us?"

"Sure!" his fan quipped. "Come on." She quickly grabbed his arm and escorted him over. The other woman returned a book to the shelf and turned towards them before they even attempted to get her attention. Mort's breath caught in his throat at the sight of the woman in front of him.

From the shape of her eyes, her short stature, and her skin color, he could tell she was partially Asian. Her chocolate-brown eyes were almond-shaped, and her skin was slightly yellow, speaking of an Asian parent. Even though she seemed a bit thicker than most Asian women, Mort guessed that her thickness was caused by some of the American blood in her. It didn't matter to him, though. To him, she was perfect. Her features were enhanced by her red shirt and black pants, and her lips were a pretty rosebud color and shape, practically begging him to grab her and kiss her till she passed out.

"Amber, this is Mort Rainey," his young fan said. "Mr. Rainey, this is my friend, Amber Olson."

Mort automatically held out his hand, waiting for her to take it. She did, and as he held her hand in his, Mort mentally swore that he was not leaving this store without scoring a date with her (or at least get her phone number). However, Amber's uncertain handshake and nervous smile told him otherwise. The instant he dropped her hand, she snatched it back in what seemed like fear.

"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Rainey," Amber said, her voice soft and shy. She then turned towards her friend. "Come on, Kari, we should go; you've got to get that book to your sister, remember?"

Mort watched carefully as Kari first looked at Amber in surprise before shifting her gaze between him and Amber. A sort of silent exchange went between the two women, and Mort couldn't help but wonder what they were thinking about; he got his answer a second later.

"Uh, you're right, Amber, we should go," Kari replied as she turned to Mort, offering him a warm, friendly smile as she held her hand out for another handshake. "It was nice to meet you, Mr. Rainey."

'_No, they can't leave yet!_' Mort thought, panic filling his mind as he absently shook and released the girl's hand. He still needed to get Amber's phone number, for Christ's sakes! However, as he snapped out of his thoughts, he realized the two women were no longer there.

Mort raced out the door, but the walkway outside the store was empty; he had missed them. Turning back to the store, Mort grabbed his coat and raced out the door, determination flowing through him. He had to find her before it was too late.

* * *

Amber's POV:

The moment I had shaken hands with Mort Rainey, I realized that I was right about the guy being weird, because something about the guy immediately put me off. I didn't know why, but Mr. Rainey was very...different...from other people, and it scared me. That's why I had very subtly signaled to Kari that I wanted to leave ASAP, not giving the man a chance to protest our departure.

Quickly pulling Kari out of the bookstore and into the mall, I glanced around and pulled her behind a tall pillar, hiding us from the view of anyone coming out of the bookstore. As Kari began to protest, I held my finger up to my lips, signaling for silence. She quickly obeyed, for which I was thankful, since I heard the hurried steps of someone approaching. As we waited for a few seconds, the footsteps quickly retreated into the store, paused, then came racing back out again, flying past the pillar we were hiding behind. As the figure vanished around a corner, I realized that it had been Mr. Mort Rainey.

"Amber, why did you want to leave so soon?" Kari asked, obviously annoyed that I had pulled her away from the extremely hot (though possibly psychotic) author.

"Because the guy scares me, Kairbear," I said, using the nickname she'd given herself in middle school. But since I hadn't called her 'Kairbear' since high school and only called her that when something was wrong, she knew that something was up.

However, she didn't look convinced of the danger I though we were in. "What do you mean he scares you? He's just an author, Amber," she scoffed, trying to brush it off.

"Kari, you know that people don't scare me that easily, but this one really bothers me," I whispered, looking around to check and see if he was really gone. "There's something..._off_...about this guy, and I think we should go home." '_Besides, I didn't like the way he was looking at me back there in the bookstore_,' I thought as I looked at her, only to see disbelief written across her face.

"Amber, don't be silly," Kari said, chuckling. "Just because he writes mysteries and psychological thrillers doesn't make him a murderer or a psycho! Now come on," she said, tugging on my arm. "Let's go shopping...I hear there's a huge sale going on in Sears!"

Unable to get another word in, I let my friend drag me to the store and around the girl's department, against my better judgment. As Kari tried on clothes and picked out shoes, I tried to calm myself down with rational thoughts, such as: _in a huge place like the mall, how would he be able to find us, especially with the huge crowds?_ I smiled at that thought. _He'll probably give up and leave soon anyway; it's not like the guy's in love with me or anything!_ I shuddered at that one; the last thing I needed was for a possible psycho falling in love with me!_ He's probably desperate for a date and will give up as soon as he finds a nice, shapely blonde at the nearby tanning salon._ Nodding my head at the last thought, I turned my attention to the horrible grey dress Kari was about to buy and put all of my thoughts and creative powers to stop her from buying the outfit.

* * *

Two hours later: Amber's POV:

We'd just finished our little spending spree in Sears when I spotted a fantastic silver and diamond bracelet in a jewelry case. Stopping for a quick second, I told Kari to go get the car while I finished looking at the bracelet. Once she was out of sight, I looked around, making sure there were no salespeople before taking a closer look. Honestly, there's nothing worse than wanting to look at something, but can't because annoying clerks try too hard to be helpful.

As I bent over the case to take a closer look, a pair of brown eyes with thick-framed glasses stared back at me through the reflections. I jumped back in shock, only to find myself pressed against a very solid, very muscular, very _hot_ male body. A pair of strong hands suddenly gripped my waist.

"Easy, beautiful, I didn't mean to scare you," a husky voice whispered into my ear. "Besides, I've had one hell of a time trying to locate you."

I quickly turned around to face him. "Mr. Rainey!" I exclaimed, trying to hide my fear. "What are you doing here?"

He smiled at me. "Actually, I've been trying for hours to find you," he said, smiling down at me. "I was wondering if you'd like to join me for dinner this evening, or perhaps grab a drink?"

Okay, this was getting weird; the guy doesn't even know me for more than a grand total of two minutes, and he wants to go out with me? Mr. Rainey was two tacos short of a platter if he thought I'd go out with him! What was even more disturbing was that his hands had started to gently stroke my hips, his thumbs making small circling motions as he held me.

'_Okay, this has to stop,'_ I thought as I cleared my throat. "Um, I'd love to, but I don't go out with people I've known less than two minutes, total, Mr. Rainey," I said, trying to be polite as I attempted to squirm out of the grip he had on my hips. "But I'm sure there are other women who'd love to go out with a good looking guy like you. Goodbye," I said, successfully freeing myself from his hands and racing for the door to the parking lot. I was relieved to find Kari already there with the car. Without another word, I jumped in and Kari hit the gas. As we sped down the freeway, I tried to put Mort Rainey out of my head.

* * *

Mort's POV:

Having Amber turn him down and run away from him was a double blow to his heart. He could tell he scared her, but couldn't understand how. After all, he'd only tried to be polite, and yet she was scared to death of him! It made no sense! Well, maybe he shouldn't have tried to rub her hips, but it had felt so good and so natural to do that he couldn't stop himself. It wasn't his fault that her hips were so soft and wonderfully shaped that they fit perfectly into his hands! Plus, she'd called him 'good looking,' so she had to like him, right?

Looking down into the jewelry case, Mort spotted the bracelet she'd been looking at and smiled, a plan forming in his head. He'd win Amber over if it was the last thing he did, and he had a lot to do before he had to return to Tashmore Lake. He wasn't beaten yet!

* * *

AN: Please be good sports and review! Please? I'd like to know if people are reading, and it'd mean a lot to me if you did! Thanks!


	3. Constant Appearances

Disclaimer: I don't own Mort Rainey or anything **_Secret Window_**. That belongs to Stephen King.

AN: Thanks for your support! I didn't know how many people would read this, but I'm glad that people like it and review it. It means a lot to me. I love you all!

**Chapter 3: Constant Appearances:**

_Two days after the book signing: Amber's POV_:

Ripping open the envelope my father had handed me, I tried not to get my hopes up too high. Unfolding the letter and reading its contents, I felt what little hope I had shatter into a million pieces; I'd been turned down for employment once again. Crumpling the rejection note and tossing it into the fireplace, I tried not to show how upset and crushed I was. Unfortunately, my dad saw right through me, as usual.

"Turned down again, pumpkin?" he asked, his voice gentle and understanding as he took his lunch out of the microwave. "Don't worry, you've only been out of school for a month. You'll find work."

I tried not to cry in front of my biggest supporter, knowing that if Dad saw my tears, it would only make him believe that he was the cause. Sometimes I think he's the only person on the planet who can read me like an open book and pick me up when I feel down. However, the tears would have to wait; they would fall as soon as he'd gone back to the office. Instead, I put on my best false smile as I watched him sit down with his lunch, actually glad that he came home for his hour lunch break to distract me from my job hunt.

"Yeah, you're right," I said, flashing a false, but convincing, smile as I took a seat across from him. "Just gotta keep my head up."

My dad smiled and nodded as he took a bite of leftover casserole. Not wanting to watch him eat, I took the classified ads, comics, and entertainment sections out of the paper, spreading them out in front of me so I wouldn't have to rummage through a stack for them later. When I had finished going through the fruitless classified pages, I shifted my attention to the entertainment section to read the latest gossip on Hollywood's biggest stars. My hands froze in mid-air when I saw who was on the front of the entertainment pages. A familiar set of brown eyes framed by glasses stared back at me from under messy brown-blond hair; I swear my heart stopped in my chest.

"Pumpkin, are you alright? What's wrong?" my dad asked, moving over to my side of the table. He paused by my chair to see what I was looking at. "Oh, it's that author guy you saw with Kari, right? He's kind of scruffy-looking, isn't he?" A smirk formed on my dad's mouth, quickly becoming contagious as it soon spread onto my own face.

A split second later, I couldn't help but laugh at him. "Yeah, he is, isn't he?" I asked, tucking the section away and moving to the comics. I could really use the laughs, especially after seeing the article and reliving the mall scenes involving Mort Rainey in my head.

Dad finished his lunch at the same time I finished up with the comics. He cleaned up his dishes, kissed me on the forehead, and left for work again. I immediately went back to the computer that I was now chained to in order to look for work. Not that it did much good; I'd applied to dozens of places, and they'd all turned me down for some crappy reason or another. I didn't understand why, though; I was educated, I'd worked a bit before, and I was an extremely hard working and friendly person.

"So what's wrong with me?" I muttered to myself as I stared hopelessly at the blank screen.

I was spared from answering myself thanks to the doorbell ringing. Profusely thanking the Powers Above for the interruption, I raced to take a peek outside, hoping it wasn't the damn neighbor kids playing another prank (or worse yet, a salesman trying to pawn off some crappy cleaning product for our bathroom). Imagine my surprise at finding that it was a UPS guy, though why he'd be here was beyond me. My parents rarely (if ever) bought anything through the mail, so it had to belong to one of the neighbors; it wouldn't be the first time a package had been delivered to our house by mistake. Shrugging, I opened the door.

"Yes?" I asked, spotting a small package in his hands.

"Are you Amber Olson?" the guy asked, checking the package and the number above our doorbell.

"That's what it says on my state ID," I replied, smiling. He smiled back as he handed me the package.

"Then this is for you," he said, also handing over the device needed for customer signatures. "Sign here, please." After the task was completed, he tipped his hat to me before peeling off in his truck.

Closing the door, I eagerly looked to see who it was from, but didn't recognize the return address in the corner. Where the Hell was Tashmore Lake, anyway? I pushed the thought out of my head as I tore the brown paper, revealing silver wrapping paper and ribbons underneath. It was hard to resist ripping the beautiful paper to shreds to get at the contents inside, but my curiosity was eating me up. I decided to throw caution to the wind and go for it, but carefully; the paper must have cost a bit of money, and it might come in handy later. I took the package to the kitchen table and sat down, spending ten minutes carefully untying the ribbons and loosening the wrapping paper just enough to slide the container out. It was a long, narrow leather case, very elegant and well made. Once it was safely in my hands, I opened the leather box and was shocked to find the silver and diamond bracelet I'd seen in the mall. Only one other person knew about it, and the fact that he had found my home and my family scared the shit out of me.

Despite knowing nothing about who I was or where I was from, Mort Rainey had somehow found me.

* * *

_A week later: Amber's POV_:

It had been over a week since I'd seen Mort Rainey at the book signing, and I was _this close_ to calling the cops on the guy. Seriously, the man has problems! Not only does he have the nerve to send stuff to my home (never mind how the Hell he found out where I lived), but then he starts showing up whenever I started going into out of the house!

_**Flashback**_:

Five days ago, I'd gotten tired of leftovers and had gone into the center of our tiny town with the intention of getting an Italian soda and a sandwich wrap for lunch. I'd barely sat down and dug into my food when someone boldly took a seat across from me. Expecting a long-lost friend (or, more likely, an enemy) from high school, I had nearly dropped my food into my lap when I saw the oh-so-familiar thick rimmed glasses and brown eyes, complete with tousled brown-blond hair. My mouth dropped open and I simply stared at him for at least a full minute before responding.

"What are _you_ doing here?" I gasped, dropping my food back onto my plate. What the heck was Mort Rainey doing, and how did he find me here?

"Oh, don't let me interrupt," he replied, smiling at me as he leaned closer, over the table. "Go ahead and eat. I'll just keep you company."

Eating had been the last thing on my mind at that point, but I did anyway. Besides, the person behind the counter was beginning to look at me kind of oddly. As I forced the food down, I'd tried not to notice how Mr. Rainey watched every move I made. When I'd finished eating, I simply sat there, sipping my Italian soda and not making eye contact. However, I could still feel his eyes watching my every move, and for some reason, he was extremely focused on my face. Several moments of eerie silence passed, the only sounds in the shop coming from the espresso machine and the clock on the wall. I was in the middle of conceiving an escape plan when Mr. Rainey broke the silence.

"So, do you have a boyfriend?" he asked.

My head snapped up. "What?" I asked, extremely surprised that he's ask such a question.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" he asked again, brown eyes boring directly into mine.

I considered lying to him, but decided against it. His question scared me, and I couldn't help but wonder why he wanted to know something so personal about me. I thought it was a bit much, but I didn't want to lie to the man. I mean, what if he was violent or something? Inwardly sighing, I decided to be honest with the guy, even if he was a weirdo.

"No, I don't have a boyfriend," I said, glancing out the window as I sipped my drink. I saw his reflection in the glass, his face suddenly changing from intense and focused to relaxed and...relieved? That was odd; why would he be relieved about my not having a boyfriend?

Not wanting to be in that café any longer with the extremely odd author, I picked up my strawberry Italian soda and bolted for the door, hoping to get away before he knew what was happening. I counted myself lucky that I'd hidden behind some garbage cans, and extremely relieved when he ran by and totally missed me. After waiting several minutes, I had raced home as fast as I could, slamming and locking the door behind me. Before I went to bed that night, I'd done some things that I'd never done before: I double-checked the doors and windows, even taking the bathroom nightlight into my room to help me sleep better. The most disturbing thing was that I hadn't slept with a nightlight since I was a kid.

Three days after the café incident, with no sign of Mr. Rainey anywhere near my home, I'd decided to go for a walk, staying away from town in case he was still there. I had been a few minutes from returning home when I felt someone following me. I slightly sped up my pace and could make out the sound of footsteps behind me, trying to keep up. At that point I decided that enough was enough; I ran like Hell for home, hoping to get there and get inside before it was too late. It never happened. I hadn't made it past the corner before I was grabbed and spun around, coming face-to-face with the mental author.

"Amber, why are you running away from me?" Mort asked, staring down at me with those dark eyes as he gripped my shoulders.

"Why am I running?" I asked, my voice turning shrill with panic as I struggled again him. "Besides you finding my house and sending expensive gifts to a girl you've hardly known more than two minutes? Then you show up in my hometown, watch me while I eat, ask questions about my personal life, and run after me down a street, and you want to know _why_ I'm running away from you?!"

At that point, I'd tried to take a deep breath and think of a way to escape, but with him holding me in a death-grip, it wasn't going to happen without a fight. _'Why didn't I listen to Dad when he tried to teach me self defense?'_ I mentally slapped myself. Dad was a black-belt in karate, and I'd told him I'd never need his lessons in a small, quiet town like ours. Well, that proved me wrong on _that_ point!

Mort sighed, his hands relaxing on my shoulders to suddenly start a rubbing motion up and down my upper arms. "I don't understand why you're so scared of me, Amber," he murmured, taking a step closer to me, his face a few inches from mine. I tried backing away, but he was too strong. "Please tell me what I've done."

_That_ was unexpected. Still, I answered him honestly. "It's your books," I said, not making eye contact. "They're so well detailed about psychos and murders it's almost like you've actually done it!"

I heard a sharp intake of breath. "I see," he whispered, his hands still caressing my shoulders. "Well, I'll just have to show you that I'm not as bad as you think I am."

Then, to my surprise, he'd released me and walked away without looking back. Taking advantage of the given freedom, I had turned and run for home.

_**End Flashback**_

**__**

That had been two days ago. Why I'd never told my parents about the incidents and the gifts, I don't know. Well, the last thing I needed was for my mom to become an even freakier person than she already was, and I definitely didn't want Dad locking me up in the house for the rest of my life! I guess I'd just have to wait for Mort Rainey to go back to whatever he came from. Hopefully, it would be soon.

* * *

_That same day: Mort's POV_:

Pacing back and forth across his hotel room, Mort could feel desperation swell up inside him. The woman of his dreams was less than a mile from his hotel, and all he wanted to do was go to her, take her in his arms and kiss every part of her body that he could get at. That day at the coffee shop had told him what he wanted to know: she was free for the taking, because there was no boyfriend to get in his way or to steal her from.

The problem was that he couldn't get near her! For some reason, Amber was deathly afraid of him, despite the fact that Shooter was gone. True, Amber didn't know about Shooter and what he'd done, but in a way she did; she'd read what Shooter had made his other half write, and therefore knew what Mort's other half was capable of.

"But he's gone," Mort muttered, still pacing. "Shooter's gone, and there's only me. But how am I going to make _her_ see that?"

He thought that the bracelet had been a nice touch, though an expensive one. Perhaps he'd gone too far by intruding on her lunch and following her around during her walk. Yes, that was it...she probably thought he was stalking her!

"Nice one, Mort," he groaned, smacking his forehead. "You've scared the shit out of the woman of your dreams, and now she probably never wants to see you again!"

So what could he do now? Amber would probably call the police the second he showed up at her door, and her parents would probably try and kill him for scaring their daughter. There had to be some way to get her to spend some time with him...maybe even come with him to Tashmore Lake and see what a nice life he led and what a nice guy he was.

Mort stopped in his tracks. "THAT'S IT!" he shouted. In an instant, his suitcase was packed and he was ready to go. He had some serious business to take care of before he carried out his plan.

* * *

_Amber's POV_:

I groaned as I rolled out of bed, ready for yet another day of job hunting. It had been two weeks since I'd last seen Mort Rainey, and I couldn't be happier. Well, actually, that wasn't true; I _could_ be happier, if I only had a job and a way to get away from my mom, but I was fairly happy as it was. My psycho author-stalker hadn't shown hide-nor-hair of himself in fourteen days, and that was a _huge_ relief!

After I finished showering, I went about my usual routine of job hunting, instant messaging my Internet pals, and checking my e-mail. All in all, it had been a calm day, until my _darling_ mother got home. She came through the door, and the first thing she did was get on my case.

"What have you been doing today?" she demanded, hovering over my shoulder, her head directly above mine.

"Looking for work," I replied truthfully. Unfortunately, I had my Instant Messenger open and she took it the wrong way.

"No, you're not!" she snapped, jabbing a finger at the computer screen. "You're playing something! What are you doing?"

I barely restrained myself from rolling my eyes. Sometimes I think it's her Asian blood and temper that makes her act like such a bitch to us. The problem is that, as her daughter, I tend to act on my temper, too. In this case, though, in trying to keep my temper in check, I took a deep breath to cool off. Dad always said to keep calm and ignore her, but most of the time it only makes things worse.

"I'm taking a break," I said, not making eye contact; that would only make her angrier.

"Taking a break?" Mom said, tapping the screen. "How do I know you haven't been doing this all day? Get off right now!"

"But I haven't talked to my friend in two weeks!" I protested. It was true; this friend had been offline for weeks, and I'd only now gotten hold of her.

"And you can wait two more weeks to talk to her," my mother snapped, black eyes flashing. "Get off, NOW!"

"ALL RIGHT! GET OFF MY BACK!" I yelled, finally tired of her riding my case. I quickly typed an apology to my friend and got offline.

"Don't talk to me that way!" she screamed, slapping her hand down on the computer desk. "I'm your mother! I deserve respect!"

"Like Hell you do!" I screamed back before running up to my room, slamming the door on my mother's screams of protest. I threw myself onto my bed and began crying into my pillow.

As my tears were absorbed into my pillow case, I could hear my folks screaming across the hall in their room. My mother was yelling about how disrespectful I was and how she didn't deserve to be yelled at by her daughter. After all, she was only trying to 'help' me!

Yeah, right. Right off a cliff, she'd help me! For some reason, she thinks she's always right, no matter what. So she's a bitch and a moron; great combination, don't you think?

Sighing, I got up and popped Linkin Park into my machine and listened for a while, falling asleep to their depressing lyrics.

* * *

_The next day: Amber's POV_:

I woke up to the sound of birds chirping and car doors slamming. Looking at my alarm clock, I realized that it was 10:00 a.m., and I'd been asleep for over 16 hours. Swallowing, I also realized that I hadn't brushed my teeth, either, and my mouth felt furry and icky. I probably looked like shit, too.

After a nice shower and a thorough tooth-brushing, I decided to go for a brisk late-morning walk before once again gluing my eyes to the Internet in search of work. Pulling on my tennis shoes, jeans and tight t-shirt, I scribbled a note to my dad for when he came home for lunch, telling him I'd be back to join him later. Grabbing my purse and keys, I headed out the door and out into the warm autumn sun and down the sidewalk, towards town.

Halfway through my walk, I learned something important: living in a small, quiet town can be both a blessing and a curse. On weekdays like today, parents are at work, the kids are at school, and everyone else is anywhere but at home, so walks are peaceful. The only residents at home are the family pets, and the only ones outside are the dogs, who bark like Hell when someone passes by. I'd learned to tune them out, and that lesson was one I regret learning, because sometimes a dog's bark indicates danger.

It was a danger I didn't see coming.

As I walked past a large green van, I noticed that the windows were tinted and the back doors were open, but no one was in sight. I wanted to peek inside, but decided against it. Thinking that the owner would be back soon, I simply walked past, not noticing that I wasn't alone until it was too late. A cloth covered my nose and mouth as a strong arm wrapped around my waist. The last thing I saw before darkness fell was a familiar face smiling down at me.

* * *

_Mort's POV_:

The moment Amber fell back into his arms was one of the happiest of his life. Once he was sure she was unconscious, Mort swung her up and into the back of the van he had rented. After gently setting her down on the heap of blankets and pillows he'd put in the back, he slammed and locked the rear doors. Tucking the keys into his pocket, Mort climbed into the driver's seat and inserted the ignition key from a separate keychain, extremely happy with what he'd done. Looking back, he made sure the sliding door separating the rear and front of the van was locked, preventing her from escaping.

Now she was his.

Mort only hoped that Amber would forgive him for what he did, but even if she didn't, he wasn't going to give her up without a fight! He'd do anything to win her over, and he would, no matter what the cost.

* * *

AN: Feedback is appreciated! Thanks!


	4. Frightening Discoveries

Disclaimer: Still don't own Mort Rainey or anything from/in the film or book, **_Secret Window_**.

AN: Reviewers rock my world! Thanks so much for the support, I love you all! Oh, and things start getting a bit..._touchy-feely_ in this chapter, so if you don't like it, just skim through it. Enjoy!

**Chapter 4: Frightening Discoveries:**

_Amber's POV_:

I slowly woke with a blazing headache and a beam of muted sunlight in my face. Since I could feel that everything was swaying gently, I figured that I must be in something that was moving, and moving quickly.

"Where am I?" I croaked, trying to keep my eyes closed and the sunlight out. As I tried to swallow, I realized my throat was dry and that I seriously needed some water; my stomach told me that some food would be nice, too.

Groaning with pain, hunger, and thirst, I cracked my eyes open and slowly looked around. I was in the back of a fairly large van with pillows and rugs under and around me, probably to make me comfortable during whatever journey I was being taken on. Behind me was a strange, pitch-black plastic wall that separated me from my kidnappers. The interior of the van was painted black and lit only by the sunlight coming in through the tainted windows, and from the looks of things, it was quickly getting dark outside.

Then I remembered my walk and the van I had seen, the van I was undoubtedly in right now.

'_I've been kidnapped!'_ I thought, shocked. Who would kidnap me? My parents were average middle-class workers; they didn't have the money to pay off a ransom demand! Who would be desperate enough to capture a middle-class girl during broad daylight?

Looking around, I saw the van come to a stop under a traffic light and saw a lit up announcement board under a bank sign. It read 7:00 p.m. and today's date: I'd been missing for eight hours! Silently praying for my life, I didn't notice that the van had pulled into a deserted rest area until I heard the engine shut off and the driver's side door open and close. Footsteps moved towards the rear of the van, pausing before backtracking to the driver's door, which again opened and shut.

I waited, holding my breath as I prayed that whoever kidnapped me would change their minds about this whole thing. Hopefully they would release me unharmed when they realized that I wasn't worth anything. I suddenly heard keys rattle and something unlock behind me. Looking closer, I realized there was a door built into the plastic wall between me and the front section of the van, and the door was moving! Swallowing hard, I backed away to the rear doors, keeping as much distance from me and my jailers as possible. When the door slid open, the person staring back at me was the last person I wanted to get taken by.

It was Mort Rainey.

* * *

_Mort's POV_:

Stopping the van for the night in a rest area, Mort rubbed his eyes before getting out to stretch his legs. He'd been driving for hours, and was extremely glad to see that he was almost out of the state. A few more hours of driving and he'd be home free! After that...well, he'd have to wait and see what happened.

After taking a moment to stretch his legs outside the van, Mort climbed back in, shutting and locking the door behind him. The last thing he wanted was for some criminal to break into the van as he and Amber slept that night; he was especially glad that this van's windows were shatterproof, as well as bulletproof. Reaching into the glove compartment, he pulled out the sandwiches and chips he'd bought not long ago and pulled out two bottles of water from a cooler under the passenger seat. Then, unlocking the sliding door, Mort prepared himself in case Amber was ready to attack him. Opening the door, he saw her slide all the way to the rear of the van, distancing herself as far from him as possible. It didn't matter, though. Seeing Amber in the fading sunlight made her look more beautiful and angelic than he'd ever seen her before. Smiling, Mort held up the food he'd brought.

"Hi," he whispered, slowly moving closer. "Are you hungry?" She nodded, slowly, and he handed her a ham sandwich, watching her unwrap it to take a small bite. "I got some chips and water, if you want them," he offered. She accepted those as well, and the two of them ate in silence, Mort watching her the whole time. Seeing her bolt down the sandwich, he wished that he'd fed her earlier, but with the chloroform he had used on her, he didn't know when she'd wake up. Next time, he wouldn't use so much...that is, if there was indeed a next time.

"How do you feel?" he asked, watching Amber rub her eyes after finishing her food. "Is there anything you want?" Mort watched as she swallowed, hard, before answering.

* * *

_Amber's POV_:

I hadn't realized I was hungry until Mr. Rainey had offered me the sandwich. I could feel my empty stomach urge me to take the food, and before I knew it, I was half way through the sandwich and bag of chips. The water he'd given me had been wonderful for my throat, and when the food was gone, I was already tired.

'_Probably still feeling the effects of the drugs he used,'_ I thought, rubbing my eyes.

"How do you feel?" he asked, staring at me. "Is there anything you want?"

The question was unexpected, and I swallowed hard before answering.

"Sleep," I whispered. I knew I couldn't ask for my freedom because there was no way he was going to give it to me. And since I was too weak to fight my way out of the van and run for help, I would have to wait for the opportune moment to escape. For now, though, all I wanted to do was sleep.

Mr. Rainey smiled. "Of course," he replied, reaching over to caress my face, his eyes soft and gentle. I was too tired to protest his touching me.

"Thank you, Mr. Rainey," I whispered, rubbing my eyes again as he gently helped me to lie down.

"Please, call me Mort," were the last words I heard before sleep once again claimed me.

* * *

_Mort's POV_:

Helping Amber to stretch out on the pillows on her back, Mort tried extra hard to make sure she was comfortable as she drifted off to sleep. Yes, he would definitely have to use less chloroform, _if_ it was needed again. After all, he couldn't have her in a drugged daze forever, and it wouldn't be good for her. Watching her fall asleep, Mort reached to turn on the small overhead light to see her better, but quickly turned it off when she squirmed and whimpered as the light hit her. Shrugging, he stretched out next to her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into a tight embrace to keep her warm. Mort then pulled a blanket over them, trapping their body heat to keep the two of them warm for the night.

Listening to her breathing, Mort tried to resist the urge to make love to her unconscious form. It was wrong of him to want to take her so soon, especially when she wasn't even awake, but he couldn't help it. It had been so long since a woman had graced his bed, and now here she was, sleeping in his arms! He had to resist, but somehow his body did not obey his mind. Before he could so much as blink, Mort found his body covering Amber's unconscious form, his lips hovering a fraction of an inch above hers. Unable to resist the temptation, he pressed his lips to hers, savoring their soft feel. His hands slid under her shirt and began caressing her sides, gradually gliding up until they reached the edge of her bra, but going no further. Sighing in bliss, Mort kissed even harder, slowly sliding his tongue along her lips to taste her, but not enough to wake her. His hands had not been idle, for they had moved down to her hips, caressing the skin there as they continued to move up and down her body.

'_She's so soft and warm,'_ Mort thought as he pressed himself even harder against Amber's body, his lips trailing to the right side of her neck. Oh, he couldn't wait until he got her to his cabin! They'd be alone together, and he'd show her how much he loved her!

He immediately stopped when he felt her stir underneath him. Quickly pulling away, Mort saw her eyes crack open slightly before fluttering shut once more. Releasing a breath he hadn't realized he'd be holding, Mort moved and lay down on the far side of the van, putting as much distance as possible between his body and Amber's. He didn't know how long he could control his urges, but it would have to be for a while; he would not take her if she didn't want it.

Sighing, Mort laid himself down on his back and fell asleep to the sound of Amber's steady, peaceful breathing.

* * *

_The next morning: Amber's POV_:

I once again opened my eyes to muted sunlight and a gently swaying van. Rubbing my eyes, I saw something glimmer on my wrist and thanked the Powers Above that I'd put my watch on. The numbers told me that it was noon.

'_Wow, I must have been either really tired or drugged really hard!_' I thought, rubbing my head. Oh, man, my skull felt like it was going to split; what I wouldn't give for a bottle of aspirin!

Groaning, I snuggled down into the pillows and made myself comfortable. However, since there was nothing else to look at or do, I was quickly bored, so I tried to keep my hopes of escape up by thinking of ways to get out of this, quickly. The best that I could think of was to keep calm and patient, and not get too angry or hostile towards Mr. Mort Rainey. He _was_ my kidnapper, after all, and I had no idea where I was or where we were going. If I wanted to escape and get home, I had to "play nice" and learn where he was taking me, not to mention why he had taken me. If I got mad (or worse, got _him_ mad), I could kiss all hopes of freedom goodbye! He might keep me locked up in the back of this van until Armageddon, or even worse, kill me! Though, if I thought about it, Mort didn't seem to want to hurt me, but people could turn violent at the drop of a hat. So, calm, pleasant, and patient it would be. Later, I might want to physically _hurt_ him later for what he did to me, but I'd let the cops at the prison he'd be in beat some sense into him.

Those thoughts done, I turned my gaze to the ceiling. I was seriously debating going back to sleep when I felt the van pull to a stop. I thought we'd reached another stoplight and would start moving again, but perked up when I heard the engine turn off. The sliding door jiggled a bit and I could hear keys in the lock on the door. Scooting back to the other side of the van, I saw the door open and Mort slip in.

"Hi," he said, his voice soft and oddly happy. "How are you feeling?" Concerned brown eyes scanned me up and down, seeming to check for injuries. "Are you feeling alright?"

I rubbed my head. "I could use some aspirin," I said, avoiding his eyes. '_Keep calm, keep calm_,' I silently repeated to myself.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Mort said, reaching into his pocket. "I should have realized I used too much chloroform." He tapped out a couple of pills and handed them to me. "I'll get you some water."

A split second later, he was back with some water and some fast food bags. The scent of burgers and fries made my mouth water, and I was reaching for the bags before I could stop myself. Mort smiled and held out the water first.

"Here, take your pills before you eat," he said, brown eyes warm with amusement. I quickly swallowed the tablets, and as soon as they were down, Mort settled down in front of me, putting himself between me and the door. "I didn't know what you liked, so I got one hamburger and one chicken burger. Which do you want?"

"Chicken," I replied, rubbing the side of my head, praying for the aspirin to work faster.

As he handed me the sandwich, I tried not to drool at the smell of grilled chicken, warm lettuce, tomato, and mayo. I loved chicken burgers; they were my favorite fast food item! Quickly unwrapping the sandwich and biting into it, I instantly felt happy.

I can be the strangest person sometimes; everything could go wrong that day, but hand me one of my favorite foods, and I'd be the happiest person in the world! Presently, that was the case; I managed to become so focused on my burger and fries that I managed to ignore the fact that Mort Rainey was staring at me while I ate. When I was finished, my headache was gone, my stomach was full, and I had a _serious_ craving for some soda. Apparently, Mr. Rainey's telepathic, because he saw that something was up as he took the trash and tossed it on the passenger seat.

"Is something wrong, Amber?" he asked, obviously concerned.

"No," I said, smiling at him a bit. "Just a serious hankering for a soda, that's all."

Mort grinned. "That's easily fixed," he said, heading for the sliding door.

He leaned over the passenger seat and pulled out a small cooler, one that couldn't hold more than five or six drinks. Scooting closer, he set the container between us and opened it. Inside were four cans of soda: Sprite, Pepsi, Coke, and Mountain Dew.

"I still don't know much about you, like what kind of soda you like, so I bought the more popular ones," he explained.

I reached for the Pepsi. "Thanks," I said, opening the can and taking a small drink. As I swallowed, I saw Mort watch me as I drank. After a few sips, I looked down at the cooler. "Aren't you going to have one?" Despite the situation, I felt bad about drinking in front of other people.

Mort looked at me in surprise before smiling. "Don't mind if I do," he said, opening the Mountain Dew and drinking it down quickly. He was completely done in seconds, and I wasn't even a quarter of the way through mine!

As I sipped my soda, I avoided looking at my kidnapper. Instead, I thought about why this guy had taken me from my home, my friends, and my family. I mean, I'd only known the guy for, what, an hour at most, and here I was, drinking a soda with him in the back of a van! It was insane!

'_But then, maybe he **is** insane_,' I thought, sipping my Pepsi. That wasn't a comforting thought; if Mort Rainey was insane, I was in _huge_ trouble.

Well, there was only one way to find out.

"Uh, Mister...I mean, Mort?" I asked, setting aside my now empty soda can. I saw him look at me with his intense brown eyes. "Could you tell me...why I'm here?"

* * *

_Mort's POV_:

If there was one thing he had been expecting, it was not this! He knew he'd have to explain himself sooner or later, but not this soon! Still, Amber deserved to know why he'd taken her with him. As he watched her fiddle with the empty pop can, Mort sighed. They had time, so why not?

"It's a long story," he said, looking her in the eye. "Make yourself comfortable."

Mort watched Amber intensely as she began rearranging pillows to lean back on. Looking at her, he realized that he had to buy her some more clothes and let her take a shower...oh, Amber wet in the shower....Mort could feel his groin tighten at the thought, but pushed the though away. There'd be plenty of time for that later, once they got home! Snapping out of his thoughts, Mort began his story.

And so he began his tale, one which spoke of heartbreak, loneliness, and chaos. He spoke of being married to Amy and how they were having a baby before having unexpectedly lost it. His soul had lost its warmth, and he'd retreated to his work, hoping that it could offer shelter from the pain. Mort continued to tell how he didn't realize Amy's unhappiness until it was too late. He spoke of tracking Amy and her lover, Ted, to a small hotel and catching them in bed together before moving out a few weeks later. He'd gone to a cabin in a small town called Tashmore Lake, hoping the surroundings would help heal his spirit and give him writing inspiration; he'd been wrong.

Then Mort talked about Shooter, telling about how, one day, a man named Shooter came by and accused him of stealing his story and demanding that Mort change the ending, and how he, Mort, had ended up doing everything he could to prove that the story was his and not Shooter's. Soon, everyone and everything Mort loved disappeared: his dog was killed, Amy's home was burned down, and two innocent people he knew were murdered.

Mort particularly watched her alarmed expression when he explained that Shooter was actually a part of his mind, a created character that was made to carry out all of the things Mort was too afraid to do: he had killed his best friend, a town local, his own dog, and soon after, Amy and her lover. He was a living Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

"After Amy and Ted's murder, Shooter was the dominant personality of my mind," Mort explained, rubbing his hands together. "The people of Tashmore Lake collectively excluded me from town, and I was forced to go elsewhere for food and supplies. Soon, my body was completely in Shooter's possession, and I was locked away within my own mind. Months later, a year after the murders, I was freed and Shooter left my body. I could understand why; everything I loved was gone, and I was alone, and it was probably the loneliness that drove Shooter away. I had no dog, no girlfriend or wife, and no story inspiration. I was lonely." He looked up and locked eyes with the woman sitting across from him.

"Suddenly, six weeks ago, my agent called and told me about taking a book tour...and that's when I saw you." Mort reached over and stroked Amber's soft, reddish-brown hair. "We were meant to be together, Amber, don't you see that?"

* * *

_Amber's POV_:

Oh, man, this guy is so nuts, I don't know _what_ to think! He had a separate personality that had murdered four people, killed his dog, and burned down his ex-wife's house? If he thought I'd feel better about hearing this, he had another thing coming!

Swallowing hard, I was too scared to protest him touching my hair. I was stuck in the back of a van with a psychotic author who was in love with me...oh, God, someone has to help me! What if his 'alternate personality' showed up and didn't want me alive? From the sound of it, if Mort ever got pissed off at me, this "_Shooter_" would show up and do what Mort couldn't do himself...and murder definitely counted towards that! I had to get out, before it was too late!

Reacting to the danger in the "_fight or flight_" mentality, I slammed myself against Mort's unsuspecting body, knocking him backwards against the side of the van. Moving quickly, I crawled as fast as I could towards the sliding door, but was stopped when a pair of amazingly strong hands gripped my ankles and pulled me backwards. Before I could blink, I was on my back, my arms pinned above my head. Now extremely scared, I realized I was lying under the very fit, and very heavy, body of Mort Rainey, his face barely two inches from mine. Looking up at him in terror, I was amazed to see love and affection in his eyes.

"You shouldn't have tried that, baby," he said lovingly, smiling down at me. "You've definitely got spirit, and I like that in a woman." One of his hands slowly left my pinned wrists, drifting down to stroke my body, and I couldn't help but shiver in fear of what he might try to do to me.

Unfortunately, Mort thought my fear was something else. He grinned down at me and crushed his lips against mine, his facial hair scraping my face as his free hand began touching me everywhere he could reach. I heard him moan in pleasure as he roughly kissed me and caressed my body, and was surprised to feel something very hard digging into my hip. Oh, no, that couldn't be what I though it was...the guy doesn't even know me and he's already turned on by my struggling to get away? I closed my eyes and prayed that I wouldn't be forced into anything.

To my surprise, Mort suddenly pulled back and gave me a quick kiss on the lips before a rag covered my mouth, and all I knew was darkness.

* * *

AN: Wow, Mort's getting a bit naughty in this chapter, isn't he? The next one should have an _'intimate'_ scene, so if you don't like it, skip the part that is labeled, okay? Don't say I didn't warn you; simply read chapter one's notes, okay? Until next time!


	5. A New Home rated R

Disclaimer: I don't own Mort Rainey or anything **_Secret Window_**. That belongs to Stephen King.

AN: I'd like to thank Moulin-Rouge-Pirate for all of her support and her reviews...she's reviewed practically every one of my fics, and I want to thank her for that! The rest of you rock, too; thanks for everything! **Oh, and this chapter will be sexual, so please skip marked parts if you don't like it! **_For those who read it, please tell me how I did, as this is my first sex scene._ Thanks, and enjoy!

**Chapter 5: A New Home**:

The days following my abduction were some of the longest of my life. Despite Mort spoiling me with my favorite foods, getting me CDs to listen to in the car, and buying me new clothes, I still desperately wanted to go home. However, escaping was no longer possible, because after my previous failed attempt and my second drugging, I was rarely let out of Mort's sight. My only moments of freedom were to either go to the bathroom, or to stretch my legs after long hours of sitting handcuffed in the passenger seat of the van. The change in my seating arrangement was due to Mort's belief that I should enjoy the passing scenery; as a result, he let me sit up front so I could listen to the radio and my CDs (though I suspect it was because he wanted me next to him while he drove).

During the bathroom breaks, Mort followed me to the bathrooms and waited outside for me to come back. If I was ever in there for too long, he'd actually have someone check to see if I was alright and then escort me back to him. I would have tried begging for help to escape, but let's face it, who would have believed me, anyway? Many would have thought it a joke and blown me off for wasting their time when they were in a hurry to get where they were going. Then, when it was time to stretch our legs, Mort always got out first and opened my door, since the childproof lock had been activated on the passenger side of the van and I couldn't get out without him unlocking my handcuffs. Somehow, the people at the rest areas ignored the pleading, terrified looks I gave them and simply left me to my abductor, no questions asked about why I looked so scared. Eventually, I stopped trying and let Mort take me to wherever he was taking me.

"So, where are we going?" I asked on our fifth day of travel. I knew we were long out of my state, but I wanted to know specifically where we were going. "You must have somewhere in mind."

Mort smiled as he pulled up to a stop light. "You're right," he said, turning to smile at me. "We're going to my cabin in New York."

My jaw dropped. "New York?" I squeaked.

Oh, my God, my parents would never think to look for me there, and neither would anyone else. From what Mort said in his stories, no one ever visited him in his cabin because they were all too afraid of him, even the local authorities! Plus, he said that the cabin was in the middle of nowhere, so how were people supposed to find me out there?!

I tried to stay calm. "So, how long until we get there?" I asked, looking out the window.

"Just a few more days," Mort replied, focusing on the road. "Probably three days at most."

I nodded and returned my attention to the passing buildings, trying to think of a way out of this. I could try to escape again, but what if I was caught? Mort would be pissed off, no doubt, and I had no idea how he'd react; would he kill me, or simply keep me chained up in the basement of his cabin for all eternity? I wasn't a fan of either option, but I doubt that I would be given a choice in the matter.

Sighing, I let myself fall asleep, dreaming of my little brother and the family moments we shared.

* * *

_Mort's POV_:

Driving down the road, Mort tried to figure out how he was going to keep Amber inside his (soon to be 'their') cabin, preventing her from escaping. He didn't want to tie her up or chain her, but if he didn't, she'd escape for sure, no question about it. He had to think of something before they got to the cabin, or he could lose the one woman in the world he was meant to be with!

'_But what can I do?_' Mort asked himself, once again focusing on the road.

Suddenly, it hit him. They were going completely out of any territory that Amber was familiar with, so she would be easy to trick into believing that there was no way for her to escape. After all, if she didn't know where she was, how could she escape when she didn't know where to escape to? And since no one ever came up to the cabin anymore, Mort knew that keeping her there would be easy.

Looking over, he saw her asleep in the passenger seat. Smiling, Mort turned his attention back to the road.

* * *

_The next day, Amber's POV_:

I don't know why, but lately, I've been uneasy about falling asleep at night. I was usually a good sleeper, able to fall asleep quickly and easily no matter where I am. However, I began to have this sudden feeling that Mort was "feeling me up" while I was unconscious. Maybe it's because, every night we go to sleep, Mort's right there, watching me as I fluff my pillows and wrap myself up in blankets to keep warm. Or it could be because, every time I wake up, Mort's _still_ there, watching me and stroking my face or my hair. The reason I think that he tries to get a little '_touchy-feely_' with me when I'm a sleep is because he's always _way_ too happy in the mornings, more so than the night before. I tried to stay awake once, but failed miserably; I guess the stress of the situation has been getting to me more than I thought.

Anyway, after nearly a week of being stuck in the van, I felt cabin fever settling in. I was used to being indoors for a long time, but not in such a small space, and for almost a week! It was a nightmare, being stuck in a van with a psychotic kidnapper who kept looking at me and smiling like an idiot. I had tried my best to ignore him by staring out the window and focusing on something else, but after the first few days, I ran out of things to think about. In the end, I just sat in the passenger seat, watching the scenery go by and not thinking of anything at all. Thinking only made me depressed, since I typically ended up thinking about my family and friends.

On our sixth day driving, I was pulled out of my daze by a "**Welcome to New York**" sign flashing by my window. My stomach dropped and my body went cold; we were getting closer to my new prison, the place where Mort would keep me for God-knows-how-long before he tired of me and killed me. Okay, I know that I'd previously thought that Mort wouldn't hurt me, but this was a guy who'd murdered four people, three of whom he knew really well and one a stranger he barely knew! If that could happen to them, what could happen to me, a girl that Mort had known less than a week, if that? I wouldn't even say he knew me, since we rarely talked while he drove. What was even scarier was that, if one were to calculate the entire amount of time we knew each other based on conversation, Mort Rainey wouldn't have known me for more than half a day, at most!

Shuddering at the thought, I turned my attention back to the passing landscapes. Everything looked the same to me, each town and rest stop looking exactly like the one before it. Sighing, I turned my thoughts towards the place Mort would keep me, his cabin at Tashmore Lake, and what it could be like. How big would it be? Where would he keep me once we got there? Would he chain me in his basement, or did he have an actual dungeon that he would keep me in? Would he ever let me go outside and see the sun again?

I continued to ponder about the cabin until nightfall, when Mort pulled into a campground for us to spend the night in. After a trip to the bathroom to brush my teeth and use the toilet, I curled up in the back of the van, staring at the ceiling, resuming my thoughts about his cabin.

Mort's soft, husky voice interrupted my thoughts. "What're you thinking about, baby?" he asked, lying down next to me.

I shrugged, not really looking at him. "Just random stuff," I said. I heard him shuffle around a bit, which sort of bothered me. Normally, he'd just sit there and stare at me as I fell asleep, and all of his moving around was unusual. Rolling onto my right side, I saw him holding a rag in his hand and a sad expression on his face. Before I could blink, Mort leapt at me, pinning me down on my back.

"Sorry, baby, but it's for the best," he whispered as he once again covered my mouth with a drug-dosed rag.

I never got the chance to answer him.

* * *

_Mort's POV_:

He felt terrible about this whole drugging thing, but he couldn't let Amber know where he was taking her, or how to get there. Drugging her was the only way to handle this, and the most humane...after all, he didn't want to physically hurt her just to knock her out!

Climbing into the driver's seat, Mort quickly backed the van out of the spot he'd rented for the night and sped for home.

* * *

_The next morning: Amber's POV_:

As corny as it sounds, it was the warmth of sunlight and the sound of chirping birds that woke me. Opening my eyes, I saw that I was lying on a bed, a real wooden bed, in a wood cabin, in nothing but a flannel shirt and my bra and panties. Panicking, I checked myself over, praying that I hadn't been taken raped while I slept. Going over what I'd learned in Health class in high school (which I remember amazingly well), I realized I was fine, and Mort _hadn't_ raped me while I slept.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I looked around my newest, and more permanent, prison. Sunlight poured from a window above my head. On my left was an open door, which, judging from the light coming from it, had to be a bathroom; a nightstand and chair stood immediately on my right. Across the room was a door that was the exit, a wardrobe close to it. To put it shortly, it was a very boring room.

Sighing, I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, extremely glad that Mort had only used enough chloroform to knock me out, but not enough to give me a headache. Stretching the kinks out of my back and legs, I swung my legs over the bed and headed for the bathroom, a strange _clinking_ sound resonating whenever I took a step. Looking down, I was shocked to see that I had been chained to the bed! Checking the length, I saw that there was enough slack to actually get to the bathroom to use the toilet and the sink, with possibly enough to get to the shower and use it as well. Thankful for Mort's consideration, I quickly went to use the facilities.

After using the toilet and washing my hands, I tried testing the length of the chain. It _was_ long enough to get to the shower, and had more than enough slack to go past the door leading to the rest of the cabin. I found a stack of new clothes on the chair by the bed, but couldn't put on the pants Mort had left me because of the binding around my ankle. I decided to just keep the shirt on and make sure it was hiding everything while I walked. A pair of white sandals lay next to the chair, and I quickly slipped them on, too. After all, I didn't want to get slivers in my feet while exploring my new prison.

Opening the door, I saw that I was on the second level of the cabin, a study area across from the bedroom with stairs to my left. The chain around my ankle wasn't long enough to go far down the steps, but it was long enough to get to the desk. The desk bore a laptop, a Slinky, and various papers scattered all over it. I picked one up and saw that it was the ending to a story; the other papers also held various story ideas and endings, some good, some bad, and some which had some potential.

'_Will I turn out like one of those bad endings, tossed aside and left to die?_' I thought, returning the papers to the desk. I certainly hoped not! First, though, I had to wonder if I was alone in the house.

"Mort?" I called, "are you here?" No reply. Fantastic...now I could escape!

Okay, so I didn't know where I was, who cares? I'd find a road someplace and follow it until I got to a nearby town and could get to a phone. I'd call home and be back in my own state before the week was up! Nodding, I went back to the bedroom, the chain clanking behind me.

Once safely in the bedroom, I closed the door and checked for a lock on it. Unfortunately, there was none. Instead, I took the chair and stuck it under the knob, creating my own lock. That should keep Mort busy. If I needed to, I'd escape through the window, consequences be damned! I know I wasn't being totally rational, but did I really want to spend the rest of my life here with this guy? No way!

Taking a good look at the chain, I saw that a lock held the chain in place around the bed, and a smaller one held my ankle. The one on my ankle was too tightly bound for me to wiggle out of, and the lock was difficult to maneuver, so I'd have to focus on the one around the bed leg. I was lucky that the lock on the bed was large and old, so all I needed was something to pick it with. Even though I'd never picked locks before, there wasn't a choice in the matter. I ran into the bathroom to look for anything small and sharp. Miraculously, I found a small, pointed metal nailfile in the bathroom cabinet and raced to pick the lock with it. I hadn't made it very far before a knock on the door distracted me.

"Amber, are you okay?" Mort called. "Are you dressed?" The doorknob began to rattle. "Amber, did you lock the door?" He began pounding on the door. "Amber?"

"I...I'm getting dressed!" I said, trying to sound calm. "I wanted some privacy, and there wasn't a lock on the door!" Mort stopped knocking, and I swear I could hear him thinking through the door.

"Open the door, Amber," he demanded, once again pounding on the door.

"I told you, I'm-"

I never got to finish my sentence.

The door burst open and the chair went crashing across the room as Mort ran in, his eyes catching me picking the lock around the bed. What could only be anger and hurt flashed in his eyes, and I began fearing for my life. He was suddenly beside me, and I was on my back on the bed before I could blink, the nail file skittering across the floor and the chain still around my ankle. I held my breath and waited as Mort positioned himself above me, my wrists pinned above my head and my legs trapped under his.

"You'll never escape me, Amber," he whispered to me, brown eyes so dark they were almost black. "You're mine...I'll make you mine...right here, right now..."

* * *

_Amber's POV: rated _(**R)**_ moment_:

Mort forcefully pressed his lips to mine, pushing his tongue into my mouth, savoring the taste and feel of my lips against his. I felt him reaching down with one hand and could feel his hand on my thigh, slowly pushing my skirt up. Since I could feel something very hard and very hot pressed against my stomach through the cloth of the flannel shirt, I could tell that Mort was enjoying the feel of skin against skin. The shirt was quickly and easily pulled off of me, leaving me in nothing but my bra and panties. I blushed, but Mort simply grinned down at me as he reached with both hands for the front clasp of my bra, fully releasing my hands in the process.

Once my hands were released, I reacted by trying to push him off of me. However, it only made him more aggressive and turned on. My bra was pulled off me and sent flying across the room. There was a _rip_ sound, and my panties soon joined my bra on the floor, cool air caressing my exposed lower body. I heard Mort groan, pressing his lips to mine, his hands stroking and caressing my naked breasts, massaging them with callused fingertips. I tried to stay angry at what was happening, but it was impossible; I'd never been touched this way before, and the feel of his body against mine made me want more than I was getting. Then he gripped my breasts, hard, my body arching up willingly into his hands, causing Mort to smile at my reaction. His right hand quickly drifted down in between my legs, gently stroking the inside of my thighs. _That_ caught my attention, and _not_ in a good way!

Putting my hands on his shoulders, I shoved, trying to get him off me, but he was too strong. Instead, his hands pushed me down, hard, onto my back before going to remove his shirt. After his shirt was flung aside, I couldn't help but stare at Mort's chest: it was very well sculpted, perfectly tan, and had a very light dusting of hair. His shoulders, usually hidden by his loose shirts, were very muscular, showing how he managed to overpower me so easily. Mort grinned down at me, knowing that I'd been admiring his body, and reached for his pants, quickly undoing his belt. I gasped and turned away, closing my eyes. The sound of the belt and his pants hitting the floor told me that Mort was now as naked as I was.

A pair of firm, yet gentle, hands grasped my chin and turned my head back towards him. I slowly opened my eyes, trying to focus on Mort's face and not...lower down. Looking into his eyes, I saw something I couldn't identify, but knew it couldn't be good.

I was right. As I swallowed, nervously, I was pinned even harder to the bed, Mort forcing himself between my legs. Looking up at him, I could feel his length rub insistently against my opening, his muscular arms braced on either side of me.

"I love you, Amber," Mort whispered, looking into my eyes before he forced himself into me.

Pain exploded within me, and I cried out. Never having had a boyfriend, I was still very much a virgin...well, not anymore. I could feel Mort's erection move inside me and heard him grunt as he thrust into me, again and again, slowly, his breathing and pace speeding up as he moved inside me. I heard someone moan, but couldn't tell who it came from, me or him.

"Amber," I heard him gasp as he pushed again, this time thrusting so hard my hips lifted up off the bed. The sensation of him brutally pushing into me was like nothing I'd ever felt before, and the pleasure was unbelievable.

"Oh, God," I cried, eyes rolling into the back of my head. Was it supposed to feel this amazing? I knew sex was supposed to be good, but not _this_ good! Groaning, I unintentionally wrapped my arms around his neck and let him have me.

* * *

_Mort's POV: Still rated _**(R)**

Pure bliss filled him the moment he entered Amber's warm body. Grunting repeatedly, he pushed himself into her, again and again, loving every minute of it. Oh, it'd been so long since he'd had a woman, but this more than made up for it...god, the pleasure was almost unbearable...

"Amber," he gasped, pushing himself deeper into her body, harder than before. He could feel her hips lift off the bed from the force of his thrust, and loved the fact that _he_ had made it happen.

"Oh, God," she cried out from under him. Mort watched as her eyes rolled from pleasure, her arms drifting around his neck as she gave herself to him completely, groaning in pleasure. He grinned and began to move faster, their breathing increasing with his pace and a familiar pressure building quickly inside him. As their gasps filled the room, he could tell that she was nearing the end as well.

The ending came too quickly for him. Throwing his head back, Mort cried out as he came, Amber's screams merging with his. His hips continued to thrust against hers as he finished, feeling her hips rise up to meet each finishing plunge. Slowly, they came down together. Collapsing on the bed, Mort was barely able to keep his body from crushing hers. Groaning, Mort moved himself off of her, watching as she caught her breath.

"Are you alright?" he asked, stroking her face. She looked at him with tired eyes before nodding. "Sleep," Mort murmured to her. Amber nodded again before rolling away from him and falling asleep. Sighing with contentment, Mort joined her.

* * *

_Amber's POV_:

Lying on my left side, turned away from him, I heard Mort's breathing deepen as he fell asleep. Oh God, what have I done? I'd always been a firm believer in the "no sex until marriage" idea, and now I'd broken it. What would my parents think? Oh, God, my mom would freak out...I feel like I've gone against every moral I believe in...what do I do now? What if I'm pregnant after this? I'm not even married to this guy, and I've slept with him and could be pregnant! Okay, so I'm old fashioned for not wanting to have sex until after I'm married and wanting to be married to the father of my kids, but that's what I believe in...well, that's what I _believed_ in before today.

Sighing, I closed my eyes to get some rest. I felt Mort stir and mutter something in his sleep. Turning over onto my back, I looked over and saw him smiling. He looks so peaceful when he's asleep, so different from the man who'd kidnapped me and took my innocence. Not wanting to look at him any longer, I rolled back over onto my left side, away from Mort. Closing my eyes, I felt his arm slip around my waist as he pulled me close against his body. Too tired to resist, I drifted off to sleep.

* * *

AN: Well, how was that? Please tell me, but be gentle...it was my first intimate scene. The next chapter also has an intimate scene, so beware!


	6. The Passing of Time: Rated R

Disclaimer: Everything **_Secret Window_** belongs to Stephen King or the movie creator(s).

AN: There will now be warnings concerning the contents of my **(R)** chapters. I think I alarmed people with my last chapter, and I apologize. In light of that, I would like people to know that _there is another _somewhat_ forceful scene in this chapter, though Amber willingly gives in because she's unconscious and thinks it's an erotic dream_. And no, there won't be sex in every chapter. You should also know that things will start getting lighter as they progress. Thanks, and enjoy!

**Chapter 6: The Passing of Time**:

_The Next Morning, Amber's POV_:

I woke the next morning, sore and stiff. Blinking sunlight out of my eyes, I winced at my protesting body, thinking how a hot shower ought to do me good and relax my body, though not my mind. I still couldn't believe that I'd slept with Mort Rainey, somewhat willingly. Although I'd protested at first, I had given in rather quickly. It was probably because I had no relationship experience and had no idea how to handle the situation, but even an _idiot_ knows that if you don't want to sleep with someone, all you have to do is say 'no'. However, I doubt that Mort would have complied...he was a psychotic kidnapper, after all. Still, it _had_ been an amazing experience...

Pushing all thoughts aside in favor of a shower, I realized that my leg felt a bit too light. Looking down, I noticed that the chain had been removed, and that there was a note sitting at the foot of the bed. Pulling the bed sheet around me, I picked up the note and unfolded it.

_Morning Beautiful,_

_I thought you might like a shower, so I took off the chain for good. The shower has some scented bath gels that I thought you'd like. Your new clothes are in the wardrobe...I hope you like what I picked out. When you're done, come downstairs for breakfast._

_Love,_

_Mort_

Extremely grateful for the freedom, I set the note aside headed for the shower. After getting the water temperature set just right, I jumped in and took a sniff of each bottle of shower gel. There were six bottles, total. One smelled of roses, another of lilies. Two smelled of fruits I couldn't identify, and the last two smelled of a mixture of fruit and flowers. Impressed with Mort's choices, I chose one of the mixed scented bottles and took my time, letting the hot water and gel scent relax me.

When the water got cold, I got out and headed for the wardrobe, a towel wrapped tightly around my body. I was once again impressed, this time by the clothes. It was all something you could get from a local store, but it was very well chosen. A short black dress, some black jeans and skirts, and a variety of shoes, blouses, shirts, undergarments, and tops were crammed into every bit of the wardrobe. I even found several dressy tops, like a silky red tube-top with gold designs on it. The huge variety made me wonder where Mort stored all of _his_ clothes, if the wardrobe was full of mine. Oh, well.

I picked a new pair of bra and panties (to replace the ones destroyed last night) and tried to decide what to wear. I chose a dark green dress with black dress shoes and headed downstairs, my stomach growling at the smell of bacon cooking. I hurried even faster towards the kitchen. Turning to the left at the bottom of the steps, I saw Mort standing at the stove, humming happily as he scooped bacon onto a plate. Two cups were on a table set for two, a flower in a vase in the center of a lacy tablecloth. It all looked so cozy and sweet I couldn't help but smile.

"Morning, Beautiful."

I turned to see Mort setting the platter of bacon on the table and holding a pot of hot chocolate, which he poured into the cups. Returning the pot to the stove, Mort quickly pulled a chair out for me, smiling eagerly. I took the seat and eagerly dug into the bacon.

"Isn't there anything else besides bacon?" I asked, looking around the kitchen.

Mort shook his head. "Sorry, I didn't have time to buy much at the store," he apologized. "I was so busy buying clothes that I lost track of time and had to come back before you woke up."

"Oh, that's okay," I said, taking a sip of hot chocolate. After breakfast, I was very full and slightly drowsy. I was also very curious as to what Mort had planned for me to be doing while he kept me here in the cabin. "So, what's up for today?"

"Well, I was thinking about working on my next story," Mort replied, reclining in his chair. "I could use some help, though."

I quirked an eyebrow. "What makes you think I can help you?" I asked, also leaning back.

He chuckled. "I did a little research on you," he said, smiling. "Your former college professors said that you loved to write, especially in your fiction class, so I'm betting you'll be a fantastic help to me." Mort quickly stood up and began cleaning up the table. "Why don't you go to the study area? I'll be up in a minute."

Sighing, I did as I was told. Maybe there'd be some time for me to think of an escape plan while I 'helped' him write his stories.

* * *

_Mort's POV_

:

After watching Amber go upstairs, Mort turned his attention to cleaning the kitchen. Last night had been the best night he'd ever had, even better than his marriage to Amy! Sure, he had loved Amy, but his feelings for Amber went far beyond love. He didn't know how to describe it, but the closest thing he could think of was that he was '_destined_' to be with her. He now felt utterly complete. If only he could help Amber see that they were connected to one another...

'_Well, that's why you're going to let her help you with your next story,_' Mort thought to himself.

According to the her professors, Amber had a huge love of books and writing, which made her the perfect companion for him, perhaps even the perfect inspiration and co-author, if she grew to accept him. And eventually, she would. He would make sure of that.

* * *

_Amber's POV_:

When Mort said I'd be '_helping_' him write his story, what he basically meant was for me to sit there while he stared at me, hoping that an idea would magically hit him.

When I'd gotten up to the study, I took a seat in a large cushy chair to the right of Mort's desk and picked up a book that he'd bought me on our ride to his cabin. With the book in front of me, I was at least somewhat able to ignore him while he came up to the study and took a seat at his desk. Not long afterwards, I could feel him sit and drool over me as I read. I don't mean to sound conceited, but that's what he was doing. Writing a story, my ass! Anyway, I basically spent the whole morning reading while Mort ogled at me, end of story.

We managed to spend several hours that way, and I was fairly proud of myself at being able to ignore him for most of that time. Lunch time came and went, and I was pulled back to reality by my grumbling stomach. Although I hated asking Mort for food, I knew there was no way he was going to let me in the kitchen by myself.

"Uh, Mort?" I asked. His eyes, which had been staring at me and had glazed over, suddenly became alert when I said his name.

"Hmm? What is it, baby?" he asked, looking me in the eye.

"Um, can we have some lunch?" I meekly asked, not sure if I had actually interrupted him in the middle of a thought process or not. After all, I didn't want to anger the guy!

Mort immediately looked at his watch. "Oh, my god," he muttered as he jumped up from his chair. "I'll go fix something right now, don't move a muscle." In a flash, he was gone.

I didn't have to wait very long before he came back, two plates with sandwiches and chips in his hands, and a six-pack of Coke dangling from his fingers. I eagerly dug into my food, not looking at him as I thought of a way to escape. I could make an excuse to go to the bathroom, but what if he made me use the upstairs bathroom? Despite what I'd wanted to do yesterday, it was a _long_ ways down, and the window in there wasn't really that big. He might even wait outside the bathroom door for me, like he did on the way here. I could try and knock him out, but he was a lot stronger than I was and was always watching me, so there was no way he was going to let any sort of weapon near me. I was stuck until I could find the opportune moment to escape.

After Mort had taken our empty plates and pop cans into the kitchen, we went back to what we were doing before, Mort staring at me and me reading my book. I eventually drifted off to sleep, thinking of home.

A few hours later, I woke to the sound of someone muttering. Opening my eyes, I saw Mort fiddling with his Slinky as he stared at his laptop's glowing screen. I got up and took a peek over his shoulder. The Word document was over twenty pages long, meaning that he'd actually stopped staring at me long enough to have written something.

"Huh!" I said, impressed that he'd actually gotten something done. My exclamation caught his attention; he quickly whirled around and grabbed my wrists. I cried out in surprise, and Mort instantly released me.

"Oh, good, you're awake!" he said, smiling. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. Let's go have some dinner, shall we?"

Dinner was much more complex than breakfast and lunch had been. Somehow, while I was sleeping, Mort had created a fabulous seafood cream sauce over linguini, with sparkling cider to drink and chocolate cake for dessert. If I didn't know better, I'd swear that he'd gone out shopping while I slept. I asked him about, and the smirk on his face pretty much confirmed it. Once the dishes had been cleaned, I sat back with another glass of the cider and sipped, letting the bubbles tickle my nose. The food had left me far too sleepy to try and make a break for it, which was probably Mort's intent, but I didn't let it bother me. Now was the time for me to get into his head to see what made him tick, like they did on the TV crime dramas.

"Mort, how long are you going to keep me here?" I asked, fiddling with my now empty glass. "I mean, someone will be looking for me eventually and, sooner or later, you'll have to let me go."

Mort took a seat next to me and smiled. "I'm never letting you go, Amber," he whispered, caressing my neck as he took the glass away from me. "After all, you are my wife."

My jaw dropped about a foot. "Your wife?" I gasped. What the Hell was he talking about? I hadn't signed anything, so there was no way we were married. "That's impossible!"

"Actually, it's not," he said, going over to a cupboard and opening it to reveal a hidden safe. Carefully hiding the combination from me, I saw him twirl the dial and turn the latch, removing several pieces of paper and bringing them to me. Looking at them, I felt my heart stop.

It was a marriage certificate and all of the signed documents needed to authorize a marriage. Incredibly, there was Mort's signature, right under mine on the paper. But there was no way for him to know what my handwriting looked like! How had he done this?

"Your professors were kind enough to show me some of your work," Mort whispered into my ear. "One of them was a letter of reflection, I believe, and it had your signature on it. She was kind enough to let me keep a copy of it."

'_Oh, man, I **knew** that assignment had been a bad idea to leave behind!'_ I thought. But how did he get certain legal officials to sign these documents?

Mort somehow answered my unvoiced question. "You'd be surprised at how many connections I have in New York City," he said, rubbing my neck with one hand as he pointed to one signature. "No one _here_ likes me, but that doesn't mean that I don't have people elsewhere who still contact and talk with me. One of them is a judge, a friend of a friend, who was happy to sign these for me while I picked you up out West."

I almost swallowed my heart. Oh, God, this marriage _was_ legal, and I hadn't even signed it! He'd been clever enough to make my forged signatures all slightly different so no one would think he had photocopied and pasted them to the documents Plus, with a judge's signature on them, I was legally bound to Mort!

I promptly passed out at the table.

* * *

_Mort's POV_

:

He caught Amber just as she began to fall off her chair. Mort scooped her up and set her down on the couch, checking to make sure she was alright. Once he was sure she was, he went back and put the marriage documents back in the safe and locked it, making sure everything was secure before going back to his unconscious wife.

Mort smiled. His wife...Amber was completely and legally his wife. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a set of gold wedding bands. His was gold with a platinum strip in the middle, and hers was a similar, though more delicate, band with tiny diamonds imbedded in the platinum section. Mort slipped on his ring and went over to Amber, putting her ring on her finger.

He hadn't wanted to surprise her like that, but it was necessary, if he was going to keep her here permanently. The professor at her school had been quite helpful when Mort had claimed to be looking for samples of Amber's work to put in a book he was writing. Mort hadn't even finished asking for the papers before he was given an assignment which had included her signature. Mort had then sent word to a few connections of his in New York, asking them to send him the necessary marriage paperwork to fill out, and had forged Amber's signature onto them. His agent's cousin was a judge, and had pushed the papers through, so Mort had been legally married to Amber before he had even kidnapped her! True, Mort had probably rushed things, but he needed Amber to stay with him, and there was no way he was going to let her go without a fight!

"I'll never let you go," he whispered as he sat next to her on the couch.

* * *

_Third person POV: rated _**(R)**_ scene_:

Reaching over, Mort began stroking her neck before leaning over to kiss it. A sigh escaped Amber's lips, and Mort couldn't stop himself from groaning. God, he wanted her! Pushing her hair aside, Mort placed himself over her, kissing her face and neck as he reached down to pull up her shirt. Caressing her skin, Mort pulled the shirt up over her breasts, revealing her bra. Making a mental note to buy her _very_ revealing lingerie later, Mort quickly undid the hook in the front, pulling the shirt and bra off of her to leave her topless.

Taking a deep breath, Mort removed his own shirt, pressing his now bare chest against hers, relishing the feel of her bare breasts against his skin. Unable to take it anymore, Mort striped the two of them naked, his breathing growing heavier by the minute. He wanted to wake Amber so she could enjoy their lovemaking, but decided not to wait. Instead, Mort quickly thrust himself into her, groaning as he entered her. As soon as Mort had thrust himself completely into her, Amber began to stir.

Amber felt something push into her, but couldn't register what it was. She tried to wake up, but whatever was happening felt so _good_! Thinking that it was a dream, she placed her arms around her dream lover's shoulders and groaned in pleasure, letting him continue.

Mort felt Amber stir underneath him and almost stopped, not wanting her to be angry at him. He was thrilled when she put her hands on his shoulders and relaxed, letting him do what he wanted. Encouraged, Mort pushed hard into her body, hearing Amber's voice cry out in pleasure. Wanting to hear more, he thrust again, slightly harder than before, and was rewarded with another cry of bliss from her mouth. God, he loved her mouth. Crushing his lips onto hers, he began speeding up his thrusts, swallowing every cry Amber made with his mouth.

Still in a dream state, Amber could feel her dream lover's lips on hers as she cried out in sync with his forceful thrusts. She began responding to every plunge, lifting her hips to meet his, encouraging him to go faster. He eagerly obeyed, and the two came together, their lips separating as they screamed their release. Taking a deep breath, Amber collapsed, panting from exhaustion. Fully relaxing, she drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep, never once opening her eyes.

As Amber fully relaxed under him, Mort collapsed on top of her body, very satisfied as he slid off of her to join her in sleep.

* * *

_Later that night, Amber's POV_

:

Waking up, I found myself not in the bed, but on a couch on the first floor of the cabin. Shivering, I saw that it was dark out, and the cabin was cold. What had happened? I blinked as it all came back to me. Oh, my God, I was married to Mort Rainey, and I'd passed out after he'd shown me the marriage documents! But why was I so cold? Looking down, I realized I was naked, but there was something warm right behind me...and it was breathing!

Crying out, I jumped off the couch and turned towards the couch. Oh God, Mort's naked, too, and we'd been on the couch together. From the look of the couch, we'd obviously had sex again, but how? I didn't remember anything except a very erotic dream from earlier.

"Oh, my God, it wasn't a dream, was it?" I gasped to myself, sitting down on a nearby chair, ignoring my nakedness. I'd actually slept with Mort Rainey, _very_ willingly this time.

"No, it wasn't a dream," Mort's voice replied from the couch. I looked up and saw him lounging there, smirking at me. I turned my eyes away from him and looked for something to cover up with. "You don't need to wear anything in front of me. We _are_ married, you know."

"Not if I didn't sign those papers, we aren't," I growled, snatching up a blanket as I stood up, wrapping myself in it as I glared at him.

Mort grinned at me. "Face it, baby," he said, standing up and putting his arms around me, trapping my arms against my sides. "According to a New York judge and the State of New York, you signed those papers and we _are_ married." Mort's grip on me tightened as he pulled me against his hard body. "You're mine and I'm yours, Amber, no matter what." He lifted up my left hand with his and showed me the wedding bands on them. "Together forever, love." He kissed my ring-finger, his facial hair tickling me. "I'll love you forever, Amber, and I'll never let you go."

'_That's what worries me,_' I thought as Mort swept me up bridal style and carried me up to the bedroom.

"Now, what do you say we practice our bedroom skills?" Mort asked as he dumped me on the bed and snatched the blanket off of me, not giving me much of a choice.

It was a very long, very exhausting night.

* * *

AN: Thanks for the reviews!


	7. Deeper Thoughts

Disclaimer: I don't own Mort Rainey or anything **_Secret Window_**. That belongs to Stephen King.

AN: Wow, chapter seven...can't believe I made it this far! Thank you so much for your support, I love you all! Especially **pandagal**, who helped me out of so many ruts with this story! Enjoy the chapter!

Chapter 7: Deeper Thoughts:

_The Next Morning: Amber's POV_:

I once again awoke in Mort's bed, naked and sore under cotton bedsheets. Rubbing my eyes, I blinked the sleep out of my eyes and looked at the alarm clock on the table next to the bed; it was almost noon. Groaning, I decided to get some more sleep, since Mort had been extremely demanding last night and wouldn't let me rest until dawn. Now all I wanted to do was fall asleep and never wake up again. I wanted it all to end, right here, right now.

How could I feel that way? How could I _not_ feel that way? I was thousands of miles away from home, _and_ I was legally married to the man who had kidnapped me after meeting me in a bookstore! I didn't even know anything about him, except that he was an author who lived in the woods and had killed four people because of a fictional being in his head!

'_Wait, could this **Shooter** character be behind my abduction?_' I thought, staring at the wall.

No, not likely. Mort had said Shooter carried out the violent acts that Mort himself couldn't do, and since Mort had been anything but violent (besides forcing himself on me), I seriously doubted it was him.

'_But why would Mort want to kidnap me?_' It didn't make any sense! He claimed that it was because he loved me, but he didn't even know me! Mort knew what I _liked_ and what I'd done at school, but that hardly qualifies as _knowing_ someone. And it couldn't be that he was '_lonely_,' because lonely people don't kidnap someone to keep them company! They went and joined a dating service or went club-hopping or something, not commit serious crimes.

My head started to hurt from all of the thoughts floating through my head, so I simply stopped thinking and closed my eyes, willing myself to sleep. It didn't work. My head only hurt more, so I pressed my fingers to my temple to try and ease the pain. As I rubbed, I felt an arm tighten itself around my waist. I rolled onto my back and saw Mort smiling down at me. Without speaking a word, he kissed me, hard, his scruffy beard and mustache tickling and scratching my face. Slowly, he turned me over onto my side so I could face him, not once breaking the kiss as he held me. A moment later, he pulled back.

"Morning, sweetheart," he whispered. I turned my eyes away, not wanting to look at him. "Amber?"

I turned back towards him, my eyes filled with tears. I saw concern in his eyes, but I didn't want to appear weak and have him see me cry. Instead, I plastered a smile on my lips.

"It's okay, only a nasty headache." It wasn't a lie, just a partial truth. My head _did_ hurt. "I think I'll take a shower to help get rid of it."

Mort smiled. "Okay, I'll see you downstairs." Quickly getting up and pulling on a tattered blue robe, he vanished downstairs.

* * *

_An hour later, Amber's POV_:

Drying my hair, I felt my depressing thoughts return. I'd managed to clear my head while in the shower with the relaxing soap scents, but now the thoughts had returned. What was happening back home? Were my parents and friends out looking for me, like others had done for missing loved ones, or were they on the news, pleading their case to a large audience, hoping to reach my abductor?

I snorted. Yeah, like they'd broadcast my abduction to people out of state! They did that very rarely, like with that girl in Utah who was taken out of her bedroom at night. She was found, but over nine months later. Would they ever find me that quickly, or would I be stuck here for years and years? How long would they be looking for me before they gave up?

"Amber? Lunch is ready!"

Sighing, I set aside the towel I was using on my hair and tightened the robe I was wearing. I couldn't find anything pajama-like, so I was naked under my robe, but I'd fix that after I ate. I might even be able to convince Mort that I was too sick to be with him today! Gathering my courage, I headed downstairs and took a seat at the table.

Lunch was leftover pasta from the night before, but it still tasted good and was very filling. It was also a quiet meal, but then, they all were. I was just about finished when Mort spoke up.

"I hope I didn't hurt you last night, but I couldn't help myself," he said softly, setting aside his plate and glass.

My fork stopped its work on my food. Of course he hurt me! He'd taken me away from my family, my friends, and my home, all for what? Because he wanted a girlfriend?! What sort of monster was he to do such a thing?

"Amber?" Mort's voice brought me back. "Are you alright?"

I dropped my fork onto my plate and looked up at him, tears once again in my eyes.

"You dare to ask me that question, even after all you've done to me?" I asked glaring at him through my tears. "You kidnap me, drag me to the other side of the continent, and then chain me to your bed before forcing yourself on me?" I could feel tears dripping down my face as I spoke.

"And as if I wasn't suffering enough, you tell me I'm married to you even though I'd never agree to such a thing? Did you think you could justify my forcefully sleeping with you through false marriage certificates and documents?"

I saw him get up, but I too moved out of my seat. "Don't touch me!" I cried. He froze. "I don't know what sort of sick and twisted game you're playing, Mort Rainey, but I promise that someone _will_ come for me, no matter what! You can't keep me locked in here forever, and sooner or later, someone will see something and start asking questions! You wait and see!"

I didn't wait for a reply. I just turned and ran upstairs, slamming the door behind me before collapsing on the bed in tears.

* * *

_Mort's POV_:

He sat back down in his chair, a sense of helplessness creeping over him. He wasn't a monster, he was just a man in love...a desperate man in love, but a man in love, nonetheless. The emptiness and betrayal that Amy and Ted had left behind was gone...it had been filled the moment he had set eyes on Amber in that bookstore all those weeks ago. All he had seen was the back of her head and body, but that had been all it took. When she had turned around, he knew his heart was hers forever.

'_Does she think I'm a monster for what I've done?_' Mort thought to himself.

God, what had he done? He should have tried winning her over before surprising her with the marriage documents! He should have tried to date her before taking her! He should have tried to get to know her, and her to know him, so she'd go to New York with him!

But would she have gone out with him in the first place? Ah, that was the question. She'd told him that he frightened her with his writings and wanted nothing to do with him, so Mort had done his research on her. He had looked her up in the phone book and had asked questions around her hometown, extremely thankful that it had been small and everyone knew everyone else. In no time, he'd discovered what college she'd gone to and had looked up her professors in an attempt to figure her out.

It'd worked. In no time, Mort had learned that Amber had majored in writing and literature, which in turn helped him figure out what sort of stories _he_ could write that she might approve of. That was why he wanted her with him while he wrote; he wanted the inspiration she might spark in him. Heck, she might even help him write another bestseller! She was everything to him: she was his wife, his lover, his muse...she was his life! He needed her, and it was time to make her see that.

Sighing, Mort sat back in his chair and stared out the window. Perhaps she needed him, too.

* * *

_Amber's POV_:

It'd been an hour since I'd locked myself in the bedroom, and I'd long since run out of tears. Instead, I simply stared at the ceiling or the walls (depending on how I was laying down), thinking about how dumb it had been to yell at Mort. What if I'd made him angry? Would he try and kill me then? I certainly hoped not...

God, I've been thinking too much! After thinking about who I'd left behind and crying my eyes out, I tried to think about things from Mort's point of view. If the story he'd told me was true, he was a sad and lonely man who had suffered a lot in such a short timeframe. First he loses his baby, and then his wife starts cheating on him with some jackass named Ted. I mean, I didn't even know the guy and I hated him for doing that to another person! I'm the type of person who believes in being completely loyal to your spouse, and this Ted hadn't cared that he was splitting up Mort and his wife! I mean, if I were Mort, I'd have killed the guy, too!

'_Okay, violent thoughts aren't going to get me anywhere,_' I thought to myself.

I don't like violence. I may _think_ about it, but I'm not that type of person. People have often told me I'm too nice, and I tend to agree with them. I can't even stay really mad at a person for very long, though I'll avoid them and hold a small grudge for a _long_ time. Hell, I still hate people from high school!

Seriously, though, I couldn't blame Mort for what he'd done. That sort of betrayal is unforgivable in my book, and even though I would never have committed two murders, I'd have done some _serious_ revenge stuff on the people who'd betrayed me. But the other two murders...those were totally wrong, no matter what, but that made me feel even sorrier for Mort. He'd killed a close friend and a kindly old man, as well as Ted and Amy, which made him the town outcast. If there was anyone who knew what it was to be an outcast, I was that person, which is why I felt sorry for what had happened to Mort as a result of what he'd done. Not only had he lost his mind and his wife, but now nobody wanted to come near him. He was lonely.

'_But honestly, how could the man be in love with a person they'd met for only one minute?_'

I frowned. That would be my rational side talking. I _hated_ it when my rational and emotional side clashed. I'm a very empathic person, so I try to see and feel things from the other person's view and ignore my rational side. However, the reasonable side was right this time. How could Mort love me when he'd never met me before the book signing?

'_Still, I've always been a believer in "love at first sight." Why shouldn't I believe in it now?_'

Oh, yeah, _now_ my romantic, emotional side kicks in! Still, it was also right. I loved romantic stories and thought that 'love at first sight' was possible. Heck, I knew some couples who'd experienced it, so why shouldn't it be true? But did it have to be with Mort Rainey, the man who had kidnapped me? The man had some _serious_ problems if he thought that the only way to get a girl was to kidnap her to get a date!

'_But isn't this what I've always wanted? _' I asked myself. '_Someone to love me forever and show me affection? Someone to want me enough to marry me and make love to me and have children with me?_' I'd never had a boyfriend in my life, so having my prayers answered like this should be a blessing, right?

"Not if the guy's a psycho," I muttered aloud. No, a psycho boyfriend was out of the question, hence the emotional explosion downstairs. It was my right to blow up at him for doing this to me, but I still needed to apologize, in case Mort really _did_ get pissed off and wanted to kill me.

Sighing, I got off the bed to go clean up and wash my face before going downstairs.

* * *

_Twenty minutes later, still Amber's POV_:

I found Mort at the kitchen table, staring out the window. How long he had been there, I don't know, but the sad look on his face made me feel terrible about my outburst, even though I had a right to be angry at him.

'_Stupid sensitive side,_' I thought to myself. Oh, well, might as well get this over with.

"Mort?" He jumped at the sound of my voice. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," I said, taking a seat across from him. "Um..." I twisted the wedding ring on my left finger, not looking up at him. "I wanted to...apologize, for earlier. I didn't mean to explode like that...I've just been an emotional wreck lately. It's been a rough time for me, what with the move and marriage and everything. I hope you can forgive me for snapping your head off like that."

I looked up from my hands and saw him stare at me. Suddenly, a small, soft smile emerged. '_Whew, he's not angry at me!_' I thought, thoroughly relieved. I'd barely relaxed before I was pulled to my feet, Mort's lips on mine, his arms around my waist.

Amazingly, the kiss was soft and sweet, unlike any kiss he'd given me before. This one was so...loving...so...romantic...

I stopped thinking and enjoyed the kiss. When Mort pulled back slightly, he was smiling.

"It's alright, Beautiful," his whispered. "I know I should have acted differently, but would you have gone out with me if I had?"

I thought about it. "No, probably not," I said truthfully. I seriously wouldn't have.

Mort nodded, his face going serious. "See?" he said, still holding me. "This was the only way I could be sure to get you here with me." His dark eyes locked with mine. "We belong together, Amber, we both know that." Mort's hands started caressing my back.

"But what do you expect to happen in this marriage, Mort?" I asked, ignoring his drifting hands. "I mean, what do you want from me, besides sex?" I looked away at that point. However, Mort's hands brought my gaze back to lock with his.

"I don't just want sex from you, Amber," Mort said solemnly, his thumbs stroking my cheeks. "I love you, and I will cherish and care for you until the day Death takes me. I swear it."

And I believed him. Despite all that he'd done to me, I believed every word he said.

"And what do you expect from me?" I whispered to him. "If not sex, then what? It's too soon for me to love or hold affection for you, Mort, you know that."

He nodded. "I know," he said softly. "All I want is for you to be by my side, to be my partner in everything. Whether it's to help me with my work or give me emotional support, I want you there with me." Mort's intense brown eyes bore into mine. "Can you give me that, Amber?"

I stared at him and answered him honestly.

"Yes."

* * *

AN: I know that this is shorter than my previous chapters, but the rest of what I wanted to put in didn't really fit in here, so you'll have to wait for chapter eight. I hope that you all like this one, though, and don't think that it takes away from the storyline, or is lacking in some way. Any feedback and suggestions on this particular chapter is welcome, and are also welcome on past or future chapters. Thanks for everything, and until next time!


	8. A Whole New Light and Life

Disclaimer: Everything **_Secret Window_** belongs to Stephen King or the movie creator(s).

AN: I can't believe all of the fantastic reviews I've gotten! You all rock! Oh, and the argument in this chapter about which is better, cats or dogs, is based on my own preferences. I like cats, but for all you dog lovers, Mort is on your side (lucky stiffs). **There is also a _small_ rated (R) part, so be warned**! Enjoy!

**Chapter 8: A Whole New Light and Life**:

_Three Weeks Later: Amber's POV_:

True enough, Mort didn't call on me for much except support. He never again forced himself on me, but asked beforehand if it was alright for us to make love. I agreed once and a while, if only to keep Mort happy, but he was never rough in bed with me again. Instead, he was gentle and considerate about whether or not I was also receiving pleasure, and that gesture was particularly sweet of him. Most of the time, though, the only thing we did at night was fall asleep in each other's arms, and that was wonderful and comforting for us both.

Eventually, we fell into a routine. During the day, Mort wrote on his laptop and I sat nearby, reading whatever book he bought me as I kept him company and "inspired" him. He said he worked better with me nearby, and that my presence was comforting to him. It seemed to work, since all of the keyboard noises he was making gave away how productive he was. I was sometimes given a small peek at the laptop screen, and could see that the length of the story was easily nearing the length of a novel. Mort had told me that his specialty was short stories, but from the looks of _this_ particular story, it looked like he was moving on to novels!

After about two weeks of "inspiring" him, Mort asked me to read what he had typed up because he wanted my opinion. I was shocked, to say the least, but I couldn't refuse. For several days, I sat and read what he wrote, typing up questions and comments, and adjusting his punctuation. I suppose it was the inner writer and editor within that told me to help, but I did it anyway; besides, I was bored with just reading my books. I was a writer at heart, and writing gave me a tremendous thrill and joy. I think that's why Mort asked me to help him with his story. If he had done his homework right, he'd have known that I was a writing and literature major, and that those topics were a majority of the classes I had taken. My fiction writing professors had been impressed with my work, and one had even told me I could make a living off of it! If Mort had visited that particular professor, it would explain why I was here at his desk, editing the work of a famous writer. What newbie writer would refuse that chance? I may be his captive 'wife,' but I couldn't seem to refuse this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!

I also got the chance to get to know Mort a little bit, and began to warm up to him. After being with him for so long, it was kind of hard _not_ to talk to him; he _was_ the only other person in the cabin, after all! So in the evenings, after dinner and before bed, the two of us sat on the couch together and played "_20 Questions_" in order to get to know each other better. We found out that we both liked corn (though Mort seemed to like it a lot more for some reason or another), and we learned that classical music helped to sooth us and spark creativity while experiencing writer's block. We also talked about favorite ice cream flavors, movies, books, TV shows, pet peeves, everything either one of us could think of and ask.

Tonight's discussion led to a playful argument about animals. I knew that Shooter had killed Mort's dog, Chico, but Mort still liked dogs above all other pet animals. I liked both cats and dogs, but preferred cats. Mort had laughed at me when I'd told him that.

"What do cats have that dogs don't?" he asked as he sipped a glass of Mountain Dew.

I scrunched my nose at him. "Well, for one thing, they don't slobber all over you," I said, smirking at him over a cup of cocoa. "And they can fit in your lap, which makes them easier to cuddle with." I took a sip from my mug. "Plus, you don't have to take cats outside to go to the bathroom all of the time, or take them for walks. If they're outside-inside cats, they can take care of themselves, no problem." I stuck my tongue out at him. "So there."

Mort laughed and continued arguing over which animal was better. As he talked, I let my mind drift.

I couldn't believe that I was finally getting to know the man who had kidnapped me from my home. I was even beginning to actually like him. He really was a sweet man, and was very considerate of me and my feelings. True, he never left me alone in the cabin, but he did give me my own personal space whenever I needed time alone. There was a back room that Mort had turned into a small library for all of the books he had bought me, and that was my little hideaway. My 'library' had two windows, but Mort had secured them to prevent my escape through them. The door, meanwhile, was connected to a bell in the study, and would ring every time I entered or left. That didn't bother me, though, because I had no doubt that Mort would be able to catch me even if I _did_ manage to escape the cabin. I decided not to push my luck and just stay with him.

"Amber, did you hear what I just said?"

I turned to look at him and smirked. "No, not really," I replied, sipping my cocoa. "I won, anyway, so there was no point in listening." I laughed when he glared at me, and that got him chuckling. We then turned our talk towards books.

* * *

_  
Mort's POV_: 

He couldn't believe that Amber was laughing and joking with him. True, they had been doing so for weeks, but still, Mort couldn't believe it. It was as though the impossible had happened and the higher powers were giving Mort what he'd wanted for so long: a life with a woman he loved more than anything in the world.

Watching her sit there, across from him, her mug of cocoa in her hands and her stocking feet on the couch, Mort felt warm and comfortable. Amy had never sat and talked with him about books or had helped him with his writing, and Amber had done both of those things! He _knew_ they were meant to be together!

Smiling, Mort leaned back and argued about which tale was better; _The Iliad_, or _The Odyssey_.

* * *

_  
A Week later, Amber's POV_: 

I knew something was different when I woke up and saw that Mort wasn't there. Ever since I'd exploded at him, Mort had decided to stay with me until I woke. Once I was awake, he'd go downstairs and make breakfast, which we ate before going to spend the day in his study.

Today, however, Mort wasn't there. I frowned as I got up and dressed, but when I opened the door, I understood why he wasn't there. The smell of eggs, bacon, and hash browns wafted up the steps and into my face, making my stomach growl. Big breakfasts always took lots of time, and Mort probably didn't want me to wait while he cooked, so he'd gotten up early in order to finish in time. Once I was in the dinning room, I saw that there was something else to go with the large breakfast Mort was making me.

In the center of the table, where a flower in a vase usually stood, was a large blue box with a silver bow on it. Curious, I walked up to the table and looked at Mort, who stood there, grinning at me. He nodded at the box, and I took that as permission to open it. I pulled the lid off and gasped.

Inside was an adorable yellow kitten with orange stripes. I cooed and picked the little thing up, holding it against my face as it 'mewed' at me. Its fur was silky soft, and as I held it against me, it rubbed its face against mine. Pulling the kitten away from my face and cradling it in my arms, I looked up at Mort.

"It's a girl," he said, smiling. "Do you have a name for her?"

I smiled as I looked down at the kitten, which was falling asleep in my arms. "I think I'll call her Bubbles," I said.

Mort laughed. "Bubbles? Why Bubbles?"

I smiled. "Because it's a favorite cartoon character of mine with blonde hair," I replied, sticking my tongue out at him. "And because it's cute to say."

Mort chuckled and pulled a chair out for me. "Well, you can play with _Bubbles_ after breakfast, when she's awake," he said.

I obeyed and set the sleeping Bubbles back in her box, leaving the lid open so she could breathe. It took a while to eat everything that Mort had cooked up, but we managed. Once the dishes were clean, Mort brought out all of the stuff he had bought for the kitten, everything from toys to litter box stuff, and some food made for young cats. We set up the litter box in the kitchen, opened the food and toys, and made a bed for her in an old basket with lots of old, clean cloths. The cat bed was set up in the bedroom, the toys were scattered around all the rooms in the cabin, and a dish of food was left in both the study and the kitchen, since they were the rooms I frequented the most.

By the time everything was set up, Bubbles was awake, so I fed and bathed her before joining Mort up in the study. With Bubbles in my lap, we all settled down and spent the day in quiet contentment.

* * *

_  
Six weeks later: Amber's POV_: 

Time passed amazingly quickly after I'd gotten Bubbles. I should have been bored out of my mind, or getting cabin fever, but it never happened. I guess it's because I'm an indoor person, and don't mind being cooped up inside for long periods of time, as long as I have _something_ to do. Here, I had tons of books to read, since Mort bought me a new book every week or so. Plus, Mort frequently had me go over his work, so I was always occupied somehow, and I had Bubbles to take care of.

Meanwhile, Mort had worked on his story until finally finishing it over two weeks ago. Up until his given deadline, he'd had me read and edit the entire thing before shipping it off to his agent and publishing company. Oddly enough, he was extremely excited about it, saying that it had to be the best thing he'd ever written. Since I'd had a preview of it, I had to admit he was right. His story is a novel about a man who loses the woman he loves when she leave him for another man. He then has a mental breakdown, and another woman ends up saving him from the torment and madness brought on when his first love left him. The story ends with a powerful, but happy, ending.

Okay, so basically it was the last few years of Mort's life put into a book, with him, Amy, Ted, and myself inserted into the text, but it was well done. I'd asked Mort if that was intentional, but all he did was smile and change the subject, so I left it alone. It really was a wonderful story, and his publishers would have to be idiots not to print it.

Presently, I lay on the couch in the living room, Bubbles on my chest and Mort sitting to my right on the floor, reading a novel that he had bought the day before. Our quiet afternoon was broken by a knock on the door. Mort immediately leapt up and ran to it, looking through the peephole.

"It's a UPS guy," he muttered.

"A UPS guy?" I echoed, sitting up on the couch. Bubbles mewed in protest, so I cradled her in my arms. "What would he be doing here?"

Mort simply shrugged before opening the door. "Can I help you?" he asked.

"Mort Rainey?" the guy asked, looking at his clipboard. "I've got a letter for you from New York City." He handed over the letter and the clipboard. "Sign here, please."

Mort complied, and the guy sped off in his truck, leaving the two of us in complete surprise. Mort closed the door and came back over to the couch, tearing the envelope open as he sat next to me. He pulled out the message and read it. Suddenly, his jaw dropped.

"Is something wrong?" I asked, glancing over his shoulder.

"They're going to print my book!" Mort said, turning to look at me.

"Mort, that's great!" I said, smiling at him. I really was happy for him.

Still smiling, Mort's brown eyes sparkled as he picked up Bubbles and put her in her basket on the floor, his eyes turning an extremely dark shade of brown. "What do you say we celebrate?" he asked, his voice huskier than normal as he sat next to me, his hands running up my thighs.

I swallowed, but didn't say anything as Mort pushed me back onto the couch.

* * *

_  
Mort's POV: Rated _**(R)**

He could hear Amber gasp as he crushed his lips to hers, suddenly hungry for her. It had been over a week since he'd had her, and now he desperately needed her naked body under his. Pulling at her skirt, Mort quickly slid it down her thighs, loving how her skin felt under his hands. Once it was off, he busied himself with removing her top, undoing it button by button. Pulling the blouse open, Mort was extremely thankful that she hadn't worn a bra today. Bending his head down, he latched onto one of her breasts, licking and sucking it as he began pulling down her panties. He grinned as Amber gasped and clutched at his head, moaning as he suckled her breasts.

Once she was completely bare, Mort began undoing the tattered blue robe he was wearing. To his surprise, Amber began helping him. He looked at her and saw her give him a small, shy smile. It was the first time she had ever helped him undress. He smiled and once again crushed her lips beneath his, both of their hands busy with his robe and shirt. After his shirt was removed, Mort could feel Amber's hands on his chest, tentatively caressing his abs. He growled as her hands drifted up to his shoulders, caressing the skin there before wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Oh, God, Amber," Mort groaned, moving his lips to her neck, nipping gently and smiling as she gasped.

"Mort!" she gasped, arching her body up into him.

Loosening his pants, Mort quickly slid them down before thrusting hard into Amber's willing body. She cried out his name as he continued pushing deep into her, his hips gently rocking as her breathing and cries increased. Frantic for release, Mort began to speed up his thrusts, needing her to come with him.

"Harder," Amber whispered into his ear as she clutched him to her.

Growling, Mort obeyed. The sound of sex filled the room, and a moment later, two voices cried out as they came together. When it was over, they both collapsed onto the couch, exhausted and panting. As their breathing calmed, Mort looked up.

"Amber?" he whispered, scared that she would be angry with him. He was surprised to see her smile at him.

"I'm alright," she softly replied. "It's okay."

Smiling, Mort closed his eyes, and the two fell asleep.

* * *

_  
A Month Later: Amber's POV_: 

After the publishers in New York decided to print his story, Mort was able to relax for about three weeks before the phone calls started coming in. After that, he was always on the phone with someone. I didn't know who it was because I'd been sick for the past few days. Okay, I wasn't sick, per say.

I was pregnant. With Mort's baby.

According to the calendar, I'd guess the first or second time we'd slept together had done it, and now, according to the three periods I'd missed, I was three months pregnant. Now, normally I wouldn't believe it, since I'd missed numerous periods in a row before and never thought anything of it. However, a person _cannot_ argue with morning sickness and the desire to stay in bed for several days.

Since he thought I was just experiencing the stomach flu, Mort was trying to both tend to me _and_ talk on the phone. In the end, I told Mort to just stick with the phone and I'd stay on the couch in the living room, where the phone was, so he could be nearby in case I needed anything. I was so tired that the phone couldn't wake me up no matter how close it was to my ears, so it was a good arrangement. But after a week of me being sick with no sign of getting remotely better, Mort started to worry a bit. Presently, he was trying to think of what was wrong with me, if I wasn't experiencing the flu.

"What else makes a woman sick like this?" he muttered to himself, pacing the floor.

I was lying down on the couch with Bubbles purring on my chest as I tried to get some rest. A plate of crackers was on the table next to me, as well as a glass of water, since they were only two things I could keep down. Bubbles' purring was keeping me calm and soothed, but Mort's worried mumbling was totally countering it. Groaning, I turned my head towards him to tell him what was wrong with me, since it was obviously the only way to get him to calm down.

"Mort?" I said, grabbing his attention. He instantly raced to my side, kneeling down next to me and grabbing my hand. "There's something I have to tell you."

"What is it, Beautiful?" he whispered, stroking my forehead.

"Mort…" I trailed off, closing my eyes. "Mort, I'm pregnant." I kept my eyes closed as I waited for his response.

Silence. Total and eerie silence.

I opened my eyes and looked up at him. His intense brown eyes had completely glazed over, and his mouth was partly open. I raised my free hand to touch his face, snapping him out of his daze. Mort then looked down at me and blinked.

"Pregnant?" he asked quietly. "Are you sure? I mean, it's not just the stomach flu or something?"

I sighed and rolled my eyes. "Mort, I haven't had my period in three months, since the first night we…you know."

That was enough of a hint for Mort. "Oh," he whispered, releasing my hand. He suddenly stood up. "I have to think a minute." In an instant, he was gone, vanishing upstairs into the bedroom.

I stared. He'd never walked out on me before. Could he not want the baby? Hell, it's not like I wanted a baby with a man who had abducted me, a baby that was the result of him forcing himself on me! Yes, I wanted a baby in my life, but not like this! Covering my eyes with my hand, I quietly cried myself to sleep, Bubbles coming to rub against my face and purr me into dreams.

* * *

_  
Mort's POV_: 

Pacing the floor of the bedroom, Mort tried to figure out what was happening.

'_Pregnant_?' he thought to himself. '_Amber is **pregnant**_?'

Oh, God, it was a miracle! This was amazing! This was a second chance for Mort to become a father! He'd thought it could never happen, especially after he and Amy had lost the baby, but here it was, as second chance at fatherhood!

And he had run out on Amber after she'd told him…_oh, dear_.

Racing back downstairs, Mort found Amber asleep on the couch, Bubbles purring on her chest and dried tears on her cheeks. Kneeling down beside her, Mort decided a _major_ apology was due the minute she woke up. Sitting down on the floor and leaning so that his back was against the couch, Mort closed his eyes and fell asleep, dreaming of their baby and the life they could have together.

* * *

AN: I'm sorry if this chapter is too sappy or cute, but please review! 


	9. A Gift of Time and Freedom

Disclaimer: I don't own Mort Rainey or anything **_Secret Window_**. That belongs to Stephen King.

AN: Greetings to my lovely readers and even lovelier reviewers! I know it's hard to believe, but this story is drawing to a close. Don't panic, though, there are several chapters left before the end. Anyway, I'm thinking of _possibly_ doing a sequel to **_Lonely Hearts_**, or, more likely, starting a completely new story. What do you guys think: sequel or new story? Let me know in your review…I aim to please! Enjoy the chapter!

**Chapter 9: A Gift of Time and Freedom**:

_The Next Morning, Amber's POV_:

My eyes and face felt crusty and icky as I opened them. Sighing, I rubbed the sleepy-dust out of my eyes and rubbed my face, looking around. I was still on the couch, and Bubbles was still on top of my chest, looking at me with golden eyes.

"Meow?" she quipped in her kittenish voice, as though she were asking how I was doing.

Smiling, I scratched under her chin and she purred, closing her eyes in bliss. After a moment, Bubbles leapt off me and headed for the kitchen, sitting down next to her food bowl. Even though she was only a half-grown kitten, she was very smart, for a cat. She lets me know what she wants and when she wants it.

'_I wonder if caring for the baby will be this difficult_,' I thought to myself.

Sighing, I sat up and looked around. I was surprised to see Mort sitting on the ground, his back against the armrest section of the couch, asleep. He looked so peaceful and so content when he's asleep. In spite of myself, I smiled and picked up a blanket from the back of the couch and gently spread it over him. He stirred a bit, but didn't wake. I left him to his rest and went to feed my precious kitten, as well as feed my own growling stomach.

Now, normally I hate cooking, but since I'm eating for two now, I decided it was time to learn. I dug out a pack of Ramen noodles, a couple eggs, and some frozen vegetables. Half an hour later, I had a steaming bowl of noodle soup in front of me, with a large glass of milk on the side. Nutritious and delicious…yummy! Plus, it was healthy for the baby, so it's a winning dish all around.

'_The baby,_' I thought, stopping my fork halfway to my mouth. '_I'm actually having a baby!_' I lay the fork back in the bowl.

The thought hadn't fully hit me until just now. I was actually pregnant with Mort's baby. I was going to be a mother! A mother at age 22…_my mother would freak out if she knew_. I chuckled at that last thought. Yeah, I could picture it now…my telling her of my condition…the look of shock on my mom's face, right before she exploded and started screaming things in Chinese and English. It'd be hilarious to anyone watching, but not for me. _I guess it's a good thing I'm not at home then, huh?_ I shoved all thoughts aside and finished my food.

As I washed my dirty dishes, my thoughts turned back to the baby. What if Mort didn't want it? But that was impossible, right? I mean, he and Amy had lost their baby, and it had crushed them. Mort _had_ to want this child after what had happened before, right? _But what if he was angry at me for letting this happen?_ I stopped washing. After all, he hadn't been very happy last night when I'd told him I was pregnant, and had run out of the room. He'd never done that before, and it worried me. If he was angry about the baby, did that mean that he wouldn't hesitate to kill us both to keep the birth from happening? Was Mort even capable of killing an unborn child? My heart told me 'no,' but my head said otherwise. No matter what happened, though, I'd never let Mort hurt my baby. I may not have wanted my child to be conceived by a kidnapper, but I'll be dead and rotting before I'd let someone hurt my baby!

I was almost finished with the dishes when Mort raced into the kitchen, panic written all over his face. Despite my uneasiness about the baby, I smiled and finished rinsing the last dish, placing it on the drying rack before drying my hands and hanging up the towel. As I turned around, Mort pulled me into an intense hug. I was too surprised to hug him back.

"Oh, God, Amber, I'm so sorry," he gasped, his face buried in my hair, next to my ear. "I didn't mean to run out like that, you just surprised the heck out of me. I'm so sorry!"

I blinked as he continued to hold me and babble apologies. He was sorry? Did that mean that he wanted the baby after all? I wouldn't end up dead and buried like Ted and Amy? I sighed with relief before allowing my arms to drift around his neck and return his embrace.

"It's okay, Mort," I whispered to him. "I'm sorry I surprised you like that. I should have picked a better time and place for telling you, that's all."

Mort chuckled as he pulled back slightly. "There really isn't a time and place for telling a man he's going to be a father," he said, moving one hand up to caress my cheek as he smiled at me. "You've given me the best news I've ever heard in my life. I'm going to be a father." His eyes widened, as though the news had also just hit him. "Oh, my God, I'm going to be a father!"

As I stood there, laughing at his expression, Mort picked me up and swung me around a few times. He then put me down and knelt in front of me, pressing his ear against my belly like he was trying to hear a message from the baby, as though it was telling him some sort of secret. I simply stood there and blushed as he listened. A few moments later, Mort pulled back and looked up at me.

"Thank you for this, Amber," he whispered, standing up and putting his hand on my belly. "Thank you for giving me another chance at fatherhood."

I smiled and blushed under his gaze. "Well, it wasn't all me, you know," I said, looking at the floor.

He chuckled. "Too true," he muttered, wrapping an arm around my waist and leading me into the living room. He gently pushed me onto the couch and I lay down, Bubbles leaping onto the back of the couch. "And I believe that it's time for you to take a rest before you overwork yourself."

I just yawned and obeyed, falling asleep with Mort tucking me in and Bubbles purring on the pillow next to me.

* * *

_  
Mort's POV_: 

He stared at her wife as she drifted off to sleep. Unable to help himself, Mort leaned over her and softly kissed her on the lips, pulling back quickly so as not to wake her. She stirred, but didn't wake. After making sure she was comfortable and that Bubbles was there to keep her company, Mort went up to his study to make a few phone calls, extremely glad that he had gotten rid of the horrible green phone and bought a cordless phone instead. He'd made the switch the day after Amber had gotten 'sick,' and it had worked out for the best. This way, the phone could be with him, and he wouldn't wake Amber while she was resting.

Picking up the phone, Mort was about to dial his agent, but stopped. Instead, he sat down and picked up a piece of paper that was on his desk. It was a note from his publishing company, asking him to go out on another tour to promote his new book. Actually, it was more like they were _commanding_ him to go out and promote it. It was a pointless order, though; the book was number one on the New York's Bestseller List for the fourth week in a row, so what was the problem?

'_Greedy bastards,_' Mort thought angrily. There was no way in Hell he was going to leave his pregnant wife alone in the cabin, not for all the fans in the world!

It wasn't that he was afraid something would happen to her and the baby while he was gone, far from it. It was more like he was scared that someone would come and discover her, taking both her and the baby away from him! Or worse, what if she left on her own? He'd never see his baby! No, there was no way he was going to leave Amber alone while he was touring the U.S. and Europe. He'd have to find a way, that's all. How hard could it be?

* * *

_  
A Week Later: Mort's POV_: 

"No, that's not good enough, Jimmy," Mort growled into the phone. Pacing back to his desk, he listened to his publicist try and talk him out of his plan.

"Mort, the female fans won't appreciate you doing this!" Jim argued. "They'll get jealous and might not buy your books when, or if, they hear about this!"

"I don't care what it looks like, I want it done!" Mort snapped. "She's pregnant, for God's sakes, and there's no way I'm doing this and leaving her alone!"

Jim sighed. "I'll try and talk to the company, Mort, but I can't make any promises," he said softly, trying to calm Mort down. "I'll do my best." He hung up.

Groaning, Mort switched off the phone and buried his head in his arms, trying to figure things out. Talking with both his agent and his publishing company was harder than he thought. So far, Mort had done everything he could in order to stay here with Amber and the baby, but it wasn't going well. The company had refused to cancel the tour which started next week, and his agent and publicist hadn't done anything to stop it. Mort was stuck going on the tour, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Well, maybe one thing….

* * *

_  
Amber's POV_: 

"WE'RE WHAT?!" I shrieked. No, I wasn't angry, but Mort thought I was.

Mort winced. "We're going on a tour of the U.S. and Europe," he said softly, trying to calm me down. "Well, actually, _I'm_ going on the tour for the book, and you're coming with me."

I sat down on the couch, Bubbles jumping onto my lap. "Is it a good idea for you to take me on the tour, Mort?" I asked, looking up at him. Bubbles 'meowed' for attention, so I began petting her. "I mean, I'm three months pregnant, Mort. Should I even be traveling?"

Mort smiled. "You'll be fine," he assured me. "I talked to my publicist and agent, and they've spoken to the best doctors in New York. According to them, you're fit to travel, as long as you rest and take care of yourself." He suddenly frowned. "You'll have to stop traveling a month or so before the baby's born, but the tour will be ending here on the East Coast, so it really shouldn't matter."

I still wasn't sure about the whole thing. Traveling while pregnant? Was that even a good idea? Movie stars and super models did it all the time, but I still wasn't so sure about me. I mean, those stars probably had an army of specialists trailing them around, and who would I have while Mort signed autographs and talked to all sorts of gorgeous female fans? I'd grow fat and pregnant, and Mort probably wouldn't be there with me half the time!

'_But it's **Europe**!_' I thought. I'd always wanted to go to Europe, and the tour would go to ever single country I wanted to see…England, France, Ireland, Scotland, Spain, Italy and Germany. I'd always wanted to go to Europe, and here was my chance! And if it was safe to travel, why shouldn't I go?

I looked up at Mort. "When do we leave?"

* * *

_  
A Week Later: Amber's POV_: 

Three days after Mort had told me of his plans to take me along, we had packed into the car (Bubbles included, there was no way I was leaving her behind!) and headed for New York, where we would be leaving for the book tour. We had decided to leave early so Mort could talk to his agent and publicist about the plans for the tour. I was left in the hotel room so I could rest, but was visited by some of the best doctors in New York so that I knew what to do when traveling.

Had I known that there was so much trouble in getting ready to travel while pregnant, I would have simply stayed at home.

The doctors gave me a huge list of things I could and couldn't do while flying. I needed to stay hydrated. I needed to eat a good amount of food for my sake and the baby's. I had to stay comfortable. I was to avoid smoking flights when going overseas (well duh!). I shouldn't overwork myself. I needed to stay near the front of the plane to easily get on and off. I was to stop traveling at least four to six weeks before the baby was due. And so forth.

I should have been thankful, but I was beginning to feel the hormones kick in, so I constantly snapped at the doctors. Thankfully, they were very patient with me, and actually handed me several printed copies of their instructions. They also gave me their cards and told me to call if there was anything I needed, no matter what. They also gave me a list of European doctors I could see! I actually smiled and thanked them for their help as they left. After they were gone, I called room-service and ordered a steak dinner and some peppermint ice cream, polishing it off in record time and ordering a second helping of ice cream before Mort came back. He had smiled at the empty plates and hugged me before ordering some dinner for himself and getting a pay-per-view movie for us to watch together.

Four days later, I was getting on a plane bound for France. I had flown before, but this was a completely different experience from my previous trips around the States. When I'd traveled with my folks, we always flew coach, but now I was traveling first-class! The seats were wider and more comfortable, and the food actually tasted good! Mort did everything he could to make me comfortable; he stole all of the cabin's pillows and tucked them behind my back to keep it from aching. At night, he tried to keep me warm by snatching a few blankets from sleeping passengers. They weren't happy with him, but after Mort explained that I was pregnant, they were more than happy to share. It was the best flight I'd ever been on in my life.

The hotel room was better than I thought it would be. I had pictured Mort and I sharing and ordinary, but nice, room somewhere in a remote part of Paris, but Mort's publishing company had surprised us both by getting us a suite of rooms in the classiest part of Paris, right near the Eiffel Tower! I could actually see it from our room! Since we had a whole day before Mort had to go out to sign books and give interviews, we walked around the streets, window shopping and nibbling on pastries. Well, Mort nibbled…I wolfed them down like crazy. After all, I was eating for two, right?

But that had been yesterday. Today, I was in our suite, resting my aching feet and eating small French pastries with a side of pickled artichoke hearts for an afternoon snack. Gross, I know, but those damn pregnancy cravings can't be argued with. I wanted to be out there, walking around Paris again, but Mort had ordered me to stay inside the room until he came back from the book signing and the interview. To make matters worse, security guards had been placed outside the door, supposedly to '_keep me safe from fans_.' Oh, well, I was too tired to go anywhere anyway. My feet hurt, so I decided to obey Mort (and the doctors) just this once. Plus, I had Bubbles, my wonderful cat, to keep me company, so it wasn't that bad. I ended up falling asleep watching a French soap opera with Bubbles purring in my ear.

* * *

_  
Mort's POV_: 

Mort was exhausted when he got back to the hotel, but it had been worth it. His book was a huge success in France, and his publishers couldn't be happier. The interview had been fine, until they started asking questions about Ted and Amy's mysterious disappearance. Mort had smiled and shrugged, saying that he didn't know what had happened to his ex-wife and her lover, but that he hoped that they were happy, wherever they were.

What had surprised him, however, was when they asked him about his new wife, Amber. The press wanted pictures of the two of them together, but Mort had frowned and denied their request. Instead, he said that his wife was _not_ going to make _any_ public appearances with him, claiming that she was camera-shy and didn't like the idea of her privacy being invaded. Several reporters had voiced protest at this, but Mort had been firm with them and they had retreated from the subject. However, he was sure that they wouldn't give up until they had a photograph of her for their papers and magazines. That was what worried him. If word got over to America that he had kidnapped Amber and forged their marriage, Mort had no doubt that he'd be arrested the instant he set foot on American soil. He wife and baby would be left without him, and he would _never_ let that happen!

Walking towards the suite, he nodded at the guards stationed there and walked inside, securing the door behind him before going into the living room. Taking a look around, Mort chuckled when he saw the empty room-service dishes.

'_Well, at least the baby is getting all of the food it could possibly need!_' he thought, smiling. Looking at the couch, he saw Amber comfortably asleep, Bubbles curled up on her belly. '_That can't be good for the baby,_' Mort thought, frowning. He made a '_shoo_' noise, startling Bubbles awake and off of Amber. Satisfied, he slipped up to his sleeping wife and tapped her shoulder.

"Come on, baby, wake up," he whispered. "Don't you want to go to dinner?"

Amber's eyes fluttered a moment before opening. She groaned a little, her gaze quickly working to find who had awoken her. When her eyes met his, she looked up and smiled at him. Mort felt his heart flutter a bit when she gave him that smile…it was so sweet and happy…she had never given him a smile like that before. He stared at her.

"Mort? Mort, are you even there?"

He snapped out of it. "Huh? Did you say something?"

Amber laughed. "I asked if there was a reason for waking me up."

Mort grinned at her. "Just thought you'd like to go out for some real French cuisine, darling," he said, stroking her cheek. "What do you say?" He didn't need to ask twice. They were out the door in three minutes, and seated at a restaurant downstairs in ten.

After ordering their dinners, Mort sat and stared at his very beautiful wife, thinking about the reporters from that afternoon. How was he going to keep Amber out of the press? He couldn't keep her inside the hotel all the time, she and the baby needed fresh air and exercise while he was away. Perhaps he'd just take her out at night, when it was too dark to get any pictures of her? But she deserved to see France during the day, too, and she had told him that seeing Europe had been a dream of hers. How could Mort deny his lovely pregnant wife of her dreams?

Dinner arrived at that point, interrupting his thoughts. As they ate, Mort told Amber about his day, leaving out the reporters. She didn't need to know about them just yet. After all, she might _want_ to be found, even though she was having his baby. No, not yet. He'd wait until later. For now, though, they'd just have a nice dinner and night together.

Once the dishes had been removed and everything paid for, Mort offered Amber his arm. She stared at it in surprise, but accepted it nonetheless. Escorting her out of the hotel, the two walked the streets, enjoying the nightlife that Paris had to offer. As a finale for their perfect evening, Mort took her up to the top of the Eiffel Tower, watching her eyes widen and hearing her intake of breath at the dazzling sight. He slowly wrapped his arm around her waist and was delighted when she snuggled into the warmth of his shoulder. Looking down, he saw her eyes looking up at his face. Taking advantage of the moment, Mort leaned down and gently kissed her.

She didn't fight it.

* * *

AN: **Piratical Perfection: **please leave your e-mail address in the**"E-mail"** line of review box! Thanks! 


	10. The World Calls

Disclaimer: Mort Rainey and company belong to Stephen King and the movie studios.

AN: Not a lot of reviews for chapter 9…are people getting tired of this story already? Well, anyway, a sequel will only be written depending on the ending of this story. If I feel like ending it completely, that's it, and a new story will be born soon afterwards. It all kind of depends on the ending, and on whether my muses feel like working on the sequel. Enjoy the chapter!

**Chapter 10: The World Calls**:

_Amber's POV_:

Kissing Mort at the top of the Eiffel Tower, at night, was like something in a dream or a romantic movie. I hadn't meant to kiss him, but being so wrapped up in the moment and the atmosphere, I couldn't help it. I mean, who _wouldn't_ have done it? The two of us had been in The City of Love, at night, surrounded by silver stars and golden lights. It had been amazingly romantic, and something every woman dreams about.

Upon our return to the hotel, Mort closed the door and pulled me into his arms, holding me close. Nuzzling my neck, he sighed and began rubbing the small of my back. I sighed, grateful for the relief he was unknowingly providing me. I'd heard that pregnant women get backaches, and I was no exception…I wonder if Mort knew about it, too? Oh, well, it didn't matter. His ministrations were soothing and gentle, so I let him do it. Savoring the romantic moment, we stood there, holding one another, listening to the sounds of the other's breathing and heartbeats.

After a few minutes, Mort pulled me over to the couch, where Bubbles was waiting for us. A maid had obviously fed her, because she was happy to see us; if she were hungry, Bubbles would be yowling like crazy. Since she was fed, Bubbles welcomed us with a happy 'meow' as she leapt at me. I caught her, and she began purring immediately. The three of us (four, if you count the baby) sat on the couch and watched a movie until I fell asleep on Mort's shoulder.

* * *

_  
The Next Day, Amber's POV_: 

I woke up in the bed with Mort's arm wrapped around my waist, gently rubbing my stomach. I smiled and rolled over, looking into his warm brown eyes. They were bright and happy as he looked down at me, his hand never ceasing its rubbing. When our eyes met, Mort smiled as he slowly leaned over and gave me a soft kiss.

It was the type of kiss that steals your breath away and leaves you feeling beautiful and loved, all at the same time. With his warm, soft, gentle hand rubbing my belly combined with the kiss he was giving me, I felt like I was in a dream. Everything around me stopped, and I could practically feel myself glow with happiness.

A moment later, he pulled back, breaking the spell he had on me. However, his eyes were filled with love and tenderness.

"Good morning, beautiful," he murmured. "How're you feeling?"

I smiled at him. "I'm alright," I whispered.

Actually, I was a little uneasy. I was scared about spending the day alone and bored in the hotel room again. I wanted to get out and explore the city, to see everything that Paris had to offer. I wanted to see the markets, to go to the shops, to eat at the cafés…I wanted to do _everything_! Would I even be able to get that chance with Mort gone all the time, leaving me to fend for myself?

"Amber."

I snapped out of my thoughts and turned my attention towards Mort. Watching him, I realized that he had some sort of internal struggle going on. The joy in his eyes had dimmed, and was replaced by concern. When he looked at me, I could see that whatever he was going to say next was going to be difficult for him.

"Amber, I think it would be best for you to see Paris without me," he said, his voice sad.

I was shocked. He wanted me to go out by myself, in a foreign city, without him? Was that even a good idea? My alarm must have shown on my face, because Mort kissed my cheek to calm me down.

"You'll have a guard with you, but since I'll be busy all day with interviews and book signings, I doubt that I'll be able to be with you during the day," he said. "I think it works better this way."

I could tell that it was killing him to say this, but it was such a sweet gesture that I couldn't bear to see him upset like this. Reaching up, I wrapped my arms around his neck and brought him down for a kiss. I could feel him stiffen in surprise, but he quickly kissed me back. I was surprised at my boldness, but it felt like the right thing to do. Plus, Mort's a _really_ good kisser, so I had nothing to complain about. When we separated a moment later, I felt out of breath. It took us both a moment to recover from the kiss, but from the way Mort smiled at me, it had been worth it.

"Thank you for letting me have this chance, Mort," I said, smiling at him. "And we can always spend the evening together, right?"

Mort nodded. "Of course," he said, stroking my face. He was just leaning in for another kiss when the phone rang. I heard him curse before picking it up. "Hello…no, it can't be…I thought it was later?" He looked at the clock next to the bed. "Oh, my God, I'll be right there!" He slammed the phone down and jumped out of bed, hurrying to get dressed and ready. "Sorry, darling, but I guess they switched meeting times on me," he said, pulling on his clothes. "I'll meet you here at seven for dinner, okay?" Finished dressing, he gave me a quick kiss goodbye before flying out the door.

I sat there in shock, but quickly snapped out of it. I had a whole day of shopping and sightseeing ahead of me! Instead, I got up, showered, dressed, and was putting on a pair of comfy walking shoes when someone knocked on the door. I took a quick peek out the peephole and saw a _huge_ bodyguard standing right outside the door. Swallowing, I cracked the door open and looked up.

He was at least six and half feet tall, with olive skin, green eyes, and brown hair. And he was huge! He could easily take on a football player, and win! Did I actually have to go out in public with this human wall standing behind me all day long?

"Mrs. Rainey?" he asked, looking down at me. His voice was amazingly gentle and friendly, and his face was softer and kinder than I thought. The combination of both calmed me down a bit. "I'm Lee, and I'll be your tour guide, bodyguard, and interpreter for the remainder of your stay in Paris."

I took a closer look at him, and realized that the guy _was_ rather casually dressed for a bodyguard. In a brown leather jacket, black jeans, black leather shoes, and a green shirt, he looked like any ordinary guy…except for the gun and badge I saw tucked inside his jacket. A bodyguard who could serve as a protector, a guide, _and_ a translator? Oh, well, why not? I smiled up at him.

"Please, call me Amber," I said, opening the door wider. "Would you like to come in? I'm almost ready. I've just got to find my purse." He nodded and came inside, but remained by the door as I searched for my bag. Five minutes later, we were out the door and out in the streets.

* * *

_  
Two hours later: Amber's POV_: 

Lee was actually very fun to be with, and he had a wicked sense of humor that made me blush from all of the lewd jokes he told me. He took me to a few shops and markets, telling me what was what, and translating what the shop-owners were saying. After the third shop, I was disappointed that I didn't have any money with me. Mort hadn't given me anything to spend, and I _really_ wanted to try a few foods that I had seen in a few of the shops and stores. When Lee asked why I wasn't buying anything, I told him about my lack of cash.

Lee slapped his forehead. "Oh, stupid me!" he said, looking embarrassed. Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out a small roll of bills. "Mr. Rainey's publishing company told me to give you this. They know how much you mean to Mr. Rainey, so they decided to give you some spending money for each city you stay in while in Europe."

I was shocked. First a hotel suite, and now spending money for me to use on whatever I wanted? What was next, a free car? Oh, well, you can't argue with free cash! I decided to spend the money on food and cheap (but tasteful) souvenirs to take back to the States. However, I'd have to be careful to pick a limited amount. My luggage only had so much room, after all, and foreign postage was something I did _not_ want to mess with!

It was after five o' clock by the time I got back to the hotel. I was exhausted, but _very_ pleased with myself. Lee was amazed that I'd managed to only buy a few triangles of cheese, half a dozen rolls, and a couple boxes of pastries (all of which would be either for breakfast tomorrow or for snacking for the next day or two). It was a very productive day, and I decided to end it with a nap.

* * *

_  
Three hours later, seven o'clock pm: Mort's POV_: 

Walking back to the room, Mort was absolutely exhausted. The European reporters had been ruthless about wanting a photograph of Amber, and Mort was _this close_ to strangling them when his agent interrupted and claimed that Mort was late for an important meeting. The 'meeting' had actually been an excuse, and Mort was grateful that he's been spared at having to deal with the press. All he wanted right now was to be with Amber, order some room service, and curl up in bed with her.

Opening the door, Mort was shocked to see Amber laughing with a very good-looking man. The stranger had brown hair, green eyes, and a leather jacket. He also had the physique of a football player.

Mort saw red.

Walking up behind Amber, who was facing away from him, Mort glared at the man who was flirting with his wife. He put his hands on her shoulders possessively, staking his claim on her. There was no way he was going to let this creep get his hands on _his_ wife!

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" Mort snapped, still glaring.

"Oh, hi, Mort," Amber said, smiling up at him. "This is Lee, the bodyguard that your publishing company sent over. Lee, this is Mort."

That really didn't make Mort feel any better. This guy was supposed be protecting and guarding his wife, not sitting in their hotel room, making her laugh as though they were on a date together! He would definitely be having a word with his agent tomorrow morning.

"Thank you for looking after _my_ _wife_ for me," Mort said, stressing his marriage to Amber. "I'm sure you have more important things to do right now."

Lee looked from Mort to Amber and back again. "Ah," he said perceptively, standing up. "Well, it was nice showing you around, Mrs. Rainey. I'll be by tomorrow to pick you up and show you around the countryside. I'm sure you'll love the wineries, they're fascinating to see." He offered his hand to her and, to Mort's displeasure, Amber took it to shake. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"I can't wait! Thanks for everything, Lee," Amber said, smiling at him as she broke from Mort's grasp and stood up. She escorted Lee to the door, closing and locking it behind him. When she returned to the living room, she was still smiling. Mort grit his teeth; he _really_ didn't like that guy.

"Mort, what's wrong?"

"I don't like the idea of that guy hanging around you, Amber," he said, glaring at the door Lee had left through. "What if he tries something with you?"

Amber walked up to him and placed her hands on his face, making him look at her. "Mort, there is nothing going on between Lee and me," she said, looking directly into his eyes. "He's got a wife and two kids, and he's not about to leave them for the pregnant wife of an author." Her thumbs began to caress his cheeks. "Okay?"

Mort nodded. Despite what had happened with Ted and Amy, Mort trusted Amber like he trusted no one else. Besides, Amber was almost four months pregnant with his child! And if that Lee guy had a wife and kids of his own, well, Mort would trust him with Amber, the baby, and their safety.

"Now, how about dinner?" she asked. Her eyes suddenly became concerned. "Are you alright, Mort? You look exhausted; do you need to lie down?"

Mort smiled. "I'm alright, it's just been a long day," he said. Sometimes Mort thought that he had married the most caring woman on the planet. _She_ was the one who was pregnant, and here she was, asking about _him_ and _his_ health! God, he loved her more than anything in the world!

"Let's order in, then, hmm?" Amber said, going over to the phone and picking it up.

They had a cozy dinner and Mort ordered another film for them to watch. The two fell asleep in front of the TV, wrapped in each others arms.

* * *

_  
Four days later: Amber's POV_: 

I was shocked that Mort had given in and allowed Lee to guard and guide me. I knew that he'd been betrayed by Amy and Ted's affair, but, for some reason, he trusted me. I'd never been trusted like that before…it was an unusual, but wonderful, feeling.

The rest of our days in Paris flew by amazingly fast. I'd tour the shops and markets by day, and Mort and I would walk around together at night, usually ending our walk at the Eiffel Tower and looking over the city. Mort would wrap his arm around me, we'd kiss, and I'd always have fantastic dreams at night about it.

However, even though our days in Paris were soon coming to an end, our stay in Europe was just beginning!

* * *

_  
London, England, Amber's POV_: 

I pressed my nose against the glass window of the taxi and stared at all the buildings going by, unable to believe I was here. I'd always wanted to visit England, and now I was driving past the Tower of London, where the Crown Jewels were kept! I let out a squeal of excitement, startling Mort in his seat.

"What was _that_ all about?" he asked, smiling at me. I don't think he's ever seen me this excited before, and he looked fairly pleased about me being so enthusiastic.

I bounced in my seat. "I'm really here, in London!" I said, clapping my hands like a small excited child. "I've always wanted to come here!"

Mort grinned even wider. "Well, I'm glad you're happy," he said, taking one of my hands in his. "And we'll be able to go out during the day together, because my agent scheduled several days off for me."

For some reason, knowing that Mort had some time off made me even more happy and excited. For the rest of the journey to the hotel, we held hands and looked at the passing scenery.

* * *

_  
Mort's POV_: 

In the early afternoon, after they finished settling in, Mort watched as Amber pulled Bubbles out of her carrier, kissing the cat on the head before setting her down. Smiling, he couldn't help but think about what sort of mother she would be. Amber had a sweet, caring spirit, one that was warm and comforting and giving. Their baby would be lucky to have her there when it was sick or scared.

"I'm surprised that she's taken to traveling so well," Amber said, breaking into his thoughts. "I thought most cats didn't care for traveling, but Bubbles has been so good, especially on the plane ride here to Europe!"

Mort chuckled. "Maybe she does it to make her beautiful mistress happy," he said, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Now, what do you say to a few hours of touring and some dinner?"

Amber's eyes lit up. "Could we get fish and chips?" she asked eagerly, turning her head around to face him. "I hear that English fish and chips are better than ours."

Mort kissed her forehead. "Anything you want, Beautiful," he murmured, burying his face in her hair.

The two took a cab out to Hampton Court, and spent hours walking around and enjoying the artwork. Later, they headed back to London and took each other's picture in front of Buckingham Palace and Big Ben before going to the Tower of London, where they took more photos of one another. By the time the day was ending, Amber was clearly exhausted and eager for dinner. They stopped at a local café, and ate fish and chips while discussing the sights they had seen that day. Amber couldn't stop talking about the Tower of London and its historical significance and background. Listening to her talk, Mort was amazed that she knew so much about English history; she didn't even stop eating her dinner throughout the entire time she was talking! Heck, she didn't even notice that Mort had moved some of his food onto her plate so she could have more than what she had received!

Watching his wife eat, Mort tried hard not to laugh. With the way Amber was eating, their baby was sure to be healthy, and of a good weight, too! To make her happy, Mort ordered a slice of strawberry shortcake for them to share. After Amber managed to polish most of _that_ off, the two got up and walked along the street, back towards their hotel.

The streets were bustling as they walked. The stone sidewalks and streets were crammed full of people trying to get to a local club, bar, restaurant, or anywhere else that was fun. It was a lot like New York, but had a much older atmosphere. A person could almost _feel_ the history in the air. Even with the blazing lights, large crowds, and cars going everywhere, the history of London sticks out. Mort could feel it, and he knew Amber could, too.

They were three-quarters of the way to hotel when something unexpected happened.

* * *

_  
Amber's POV_: 

A flash went off in front of my eyes, and I was momentarily blinded. Rubbing my eyes, I blinked away the spots in my vision and looked up at Mort. He, too, was blinking madly.

"What the Hell was _that_?" I asked, still seeing spots as I blinked. Damn it, I _hated_ camera flashes!

Mort frowned. "I'm not sure, but we should get back to the hotel, right now," he said, his eyes narrowing dangerously. He looked like a wolf whose territory has just been threatened.

"Mort, what's wrong?" I asked, suddenly scared at his emotional change. He must have sensed my fear, because he looked down at me and smiled.

"I just think that it would be a good idea for us to get back to the hotel, as soon as possible," he said, grabbing my wrist and pulling me along. I was confused by his reaction, but followed anyway.

Once we were inside, Mort bolted the lock and headed for the phone. Meanwhile, I curled up on the bed with my cat and fell asleep.

* * *

_  
Mort's POV_: 

Hanging up the phone, Mort let out a sigh of relief. Hopefully his agent would get that photo before it hit the papers. He knew that it _had_ to be a photographer for a newspaper or magazine, Lord knows he'd seen enough of them at the interviews! He'd know those bulb-flashes anywhere! Turning around, Mort saw his wife asleep on the bed, her cat curled in her arms, and smiled.

No, he couldn't let that photo get over to America. If it did, his marriage and his life would be over. Mort was _not_ going to lose his wife and baby because some idiot wanted to make money selling papers! Amber and their baby were everything to him, and it would destroy him to lose them both because of one lousy photographer. No, he was going to save his family if it was the last thing he did!

* * *

  
AN: Well, I hope that this chapter was good. I've never been to Paris or London, though I'd love to go someday. All I did was watch a few travel shows and worked off of that. If there's anyone reading from Europe, I'm sorry if I'm totally inaccurate…please forgive me! Anyway, please review! Thanks! 


	11. Hide and Seek, Lost and Found

Disclaimer: Everything **_Secret Window_** is not mine. Oprah belongs to herself (as does her show).

AN: Only a few more chapters until the end! Also, I just got a job, so updates will become less frequent. **Imjustadreamer: **thanks for the extra-long review and European info! If you have the pictures, feel free to send them, my e-mail is on my bio page. **Moulin-Rouge-Pirate**: I just couldn't imagine a pregnant woman in the Moulin Rouge, could you? And I reviewed the **PotC** fic you updated!

**Chapter 11: Hide and Seek, Lost and Found**:

_Amber's POV_:

The rest of our European tour was absolutely amazing! Even though we only spent a few days (or, at most, a week) in most places, it was more than enough time for me to see everything I wanted to visit. However, that didn't stop Mort from promising to bring me back in a few years, and I thought it was sweet of him to offer to do that. I told him to wait and let me recover from _this_ trip first, though.

Anyway, Mort finished walking me around London, and we visited the London Eye (the huge Ferris wheel), visited the tombs in Westminster Abbey, and drove around the countryside to visit quaint country inns and villages. Of course, Mort had to do a few interviews and book signings, but he _always_ made time to take me places that I really wanted to see. For the days that he had to work, we spent the entire evening together, walking the streets and taking in the ambiance.

After England, we went to Ireland and Scotland in a very quick run-through, but I still got to see a few medieval castles where kings and queens once resided or visited. Spain was our next stop, and we were just in time for the running of the bulls. I skipped it because I thought it was too violent, and because I had a doctor's appointment to check and see how the baby was. Mort had a book signing that day, but he was determined to go with me to see how I was (I was fine and healthy). He was thirty minutes late to the signing, but he'd told me it was worth it.

Germany was fun, but since they were famous for their beer and I wanted to try the stuff, but couldn't, it was a bit of a disappointment for me. I _was_ pregnant, after all. However, the food was wonderful, and I couldn't get enough of it! I went shopping and such, but I mostly spent the time resting and petting my cat.

Italy was next, and we spent quite a lot of time there. In Rome, I got to eat _real_ Italian pasta and cuisine, and got to see the Vatican! Too bad the Pope wasn't there. I also visited museums and art galleries, and the Roman Coliseum. Mort took a day off and took me to the beach, saying the salt air would be good for me. The beach was stunning, but with my stomach growing, I felt extremely self-conscious and refused to wear just my bathing suit. Mort talked me out of it, however, and five minutes later, people were coming up to congratulate us on the future arrival. Well, I _think_ they were congratulating us…I don't speak Italian, so I'd just assumed from their hand signals what they'd meant.

In Greece, Mort had only one interview and one book signing, but we had ten days there for us to rest up before returning to the States. We slept in, took a few tours of the ancient temples and shrines, and bought a few pieces of artwork to be shipped back to New York. On our last night in Greece (and Europe), Mort took me to a beach where we could watch the sun set on the water, and see the stars and lights of the nearby city sparkle together as one. As we had done in Paris, Mort and I shared another romantic kiss under the stars.

* * *

_New York City: Mort's POV_

:

Grateful for the two days of rest time given to him by his agent, Mort collapsed onto the bed, letting out a relieved sigh. Europe had been too stressful, and he was glad that they, and their press, were behind them. He was equally happy that the photograph taken of them in London had been found and confiscated. As Mort closed his eyes, Bubbles leapt up to join him, stretching out next to his head and purring. He heard his wife giggle, and he was sure she was laughing at him. Turning onto his right side, Mort saw her smiling at him and the cat.

"May I ask what is so funny?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow at her.

Amber let out a few more giggles. "I just thought it was a cute Kodak moment," she said, turning back to unpacking her luggage. "I really need new clothes," she muttered. "Mine are getting tighter, and they need to be cleaned!"

Mort frowned. "You think you need maternity clothes already?" he said, looking at her. She didn't look that big to him, but then, she _was_ wearing a loose-fitting dress.

Amber turned and looked at him, raising an eyebrow at him. "Mort, I'm nearly six months pregnant," she said. "I've been wearing loose clothes for weeks now, but now I need looser ones. I won't be able to wear this dress much longer, you know."

Mort nodded. "Okay, darling, let's go shopping, then," he said, getting up off the bed. "We can ship these back to the cabin, and we'll buy you a whole new wardrobe!" Grabbing her hand, Mort led his wife out into the streets of New York City.

Half an hour later, they were in a maternity store, and Amber was looking less sure of herself. She had taken a small walk around the store, but had returned to Mort's side, a look of uncertainty in her eyes. It was obvious that she was inexperienced in the art of shopping for maternity clothes, and she really didn't look like she knew how to handle the situation. A clerk was more than happy to help, and Amber was soon in the dressing room with a stack of clothes and Mort waiting outside. Minutes later, she emerged in a very attractive dark blue top and a pair of beige pants.

"What do you think?" she asked shyly, turning around to show him the full outfit.

Mort felt his heart swell. She was asking for his opinion on her clothes! Smiling, he nodded, unable to speak because of the love he was feeling for her. Amber smiled back and returned into the dressing room. After modeling all of the outfits for him, Mort decided to buy everything she had tried on as Amber protested him spending so much money on her. Mort placed a finger on her lips.

"You're worth every penny, love," he said, removing his finger to caress her face.

The two of them returned to the hotel to sort out her clothes and pack them for the tour.

* * *

_Two days later: Amber's POV_:

I had never been on a tour of the United States before, so I was really looking forward to this part of the tour. Just think, I'd been a U.S. Citizen, and I'd never been to any historical or widely known place! I'd always wanted to go to Chicago, Detroit, Phoenix, San Francisco and all of those other huge places, and now I would get the chance!

Our first day of the tour took us to Miami, and although I'm all for beautiful weather and beaches, I felt horribly ugly and fat. Watching all of those beautiful people walking everywhere, and here I was, six months pregnant and growing bigger by the day. I felt like a blimp. However, Mort's eyes never wandered away from me during our walking explorations, and he was always by my side, looking out for me. He was so kind and sweet that I wanted to hug him and thank him a million times over!

After Miami, we flew to so many places in such a quick order that my head was spinning. I remembered the cities and the sights I saw, but not which order we toured them! Still, it was thrilling, and I was having the time of my life…right up until we went to the West Coast. _Those_ tours I remembered.

We toured every major city there, and I grew depressed when we passed through my home state. I wondered what my parents and brother were doing now, and whether or not they were still looking for me. Would they have given up on searching by now? I didn't know, but I decided to not think about it and stay in my hotel room and rest, just like the doctors I'd visited told me. I was nearing my seventh month, and couldn't travel much after this. I'd have to head back to New York after a couple more weeks, and I doubt that Mort would be happy about that, but it had to be done.

Sure enough, a few weeks later, when our plane had touched down in Chicago, the doctors there declared that I would soon have to head back to New York City and remain there until I gave birth. Mort looked crushed at the thought if me leaving him. I wasn't thrilled about the idea, either. I wanted him there to give me support, to tell me how beautiful I was in his eyes, and how much he loved me. He couldn't do that if he were thousands of miles away!

"Mort, it's okay!" I said, trying to assure both him and me. "You'll be able to call every day, and you'll be there for the birth, so don't worry!" He took my hand and kissed it, smiling at me.

"You're right, Beautiful," he said, stroking my hand. "It'll be fine."

It really wasn't, but we had to learn to live with it.

A couple days after our visit to the doctors, Mort was to appear on the Oprah Show, which could really help to boost his career even further. There was one problem, though: Mort was nervous as hell about the interview, and Mort's agent wanted me to go with him to the studio and sit in the audience to help boost Mort's moral. I was somewhat thrilled with that, but Mort looked like he was ready to panic. When I was in the living room of our hotel suite feeding Bubbles, and I heard him talking to his agent, telling her that I shouldn't go on television when I was so close to expecting. I didn't talk to Mort about it, but I couldn't figure out why he wouldn't want me there at the studio, so I let it go, even though I shouldn't have.

* * *

_The Next Day: Amber's POV_

:

The day of Oprah's interview with Mort, I was so nervous that I almost couldn't stop shaking. I chose a light blue maternity dress that fit me, but looked elegant at the same time, and put on a little make up and perfume. Hey, just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean I have to let my self go! I was excited beyond belief, but Mort seemed edgy and uncomfortable. During the cab ride to the studio, I took Mort's hand in mine and saw him jump. He turned and looked at me in surprise, but he gave me a small smile nonetheless.

I had never been in a television studio before, but I wasn't allowed to go anywhere besides Mort's dressing room and the audience area. After making sure that Mort was "keeping his cool" before the show, I was escorted to my seat in the audience. A stage assistant set up a small table next to me and placed a couple bottles of water on it and a small plate of snacks for me to nibble on. I was making myself comfortable when the audience was let in. A woman sat next to me, and she looked so excited that she seemed to be bouncing in her seat. As I straightened my dress and shifted around, trying to find a comfortable position, the woman abruptly turned towards me.

"So how far along are you?" she asked, looking at my swelling belly.

I smiled. "Just turned seven months," I said, rubbing the bulge that held my precious baby.

She smiled back. "Boy or girl?"

I shook my head. "My husband and I don't want to know. We want it to be a surprise."

"I understand," she said, turning towards the stage. Suddenly, she began giggling. "I can't wait to see Mort Rainey!" she squealed. "He's so handsome, and talented, too!"

I felt a wave of jealousy rise up inside me, and I frowned. This woman was here to see Mort because he was _cute_? He was so much more than that! Mort was creative, imaginative, kind, sweet, thoughtful…I could go on for hours about him, and this woman was here because she thought he was _cute_?

I turned towards her. "So you haven't read any of his work?" I asked, curious about this woman's brainpower.

She turned and looked at me. "Well, maybe one or two of his story collections," she said. "I wonder if he's married."

I was spared from cussing her out by the Oprah theme song sounding over the stage. Oprah herself came out and did her usual spiel, and a few minutes later, Mort was introduced. I was surprised to see that over three-quarters of the audience were women, and they were all cheering and smiling like fanatics. The guys in the audience acted normally, but it was the women that ticked me off; they were only here to drool over my husband. I turned my attention back to the show.

It was a fairly basic show. Oprah asked Mort about his past, his book, and how his new book seemed to reflect his life. Mort smiled and confirmed most of what Oprah said, but didn't say anything about the murders of Ted and Amy, which was being avoided throughout the interview. Oprah suddenly turned towards Mort and asked a surprising question.

"So I hear your new wife is in the story as a sort of savior, an angel, if you will," she said.

A dreamy smile settled on Mort's face. "Yeah, she's an amazing person, and I love more than anything," he said, rubbing his neck with his right hand as he spoke. I smiled; that was a sign that he was nervous about what he was talking about, but still happy.

"And she's pregnant?" Oprah asked, smiling at him before glancing at me.

"Yeah, with our first child." I could hear the joy and excitement in Mort's voice as he said that.

"And she's here with you right now, isn't she?" She looked directly at me, and I could see a camera focus on me out of the corner of my eye.

Mort looked rather uncomfortable at me getting attention. "Uh, yeah, she's here with me," he said, rubbing his hands together. I could see myself on the screen behind their heads, big belly and all. I blushed, but saw Mort smile at me, silently giving me support. Oprah smiled and waved, and I waved back, still blushing. The woman next to me turned and glared at me, obviously pissed off that **I** was married to Mort and she wasn't. Oh, well, too bad for her!

"How are you, Mrs. Rainey," Oprah said, smiling. I gave her the "_okay_" sign. "Okay? Good! Well, I've got something for you." An assistant came out and set a huge gift basket at my feet. "In this basket are baby clothes, washcloths, soap, shampoo, and some toys. It's all in neutral colors, so it's fit for either a boy or girl, and it should last you for a while."

I lipped the words "thank you" to her, and the show continued. Mort was the only guest, so I had to stay for the entire thing. It went fairly well, except for the fact that most of the women in the audience were glaring at me for being married to Mort and having his baby, but I didn't let it bother me. I simply sat back and enjoyed the show, rubbing my belly the whole time.

* * *

_Two Months Later, West Coast U.S.A., Third Person POV_:

In his room, Michael Olson was channel-surfing when he stopped in shock. His sister was on TV! Jumping out of his chair, he shoved a tape into the VCR and pressed the record button. Once that was done, Mike raced for the phone, dialing his father at work.

"Dad, you're not going to believe this!" he said, staring at the television.

Hours later, the entire Olson family was gathered in front of the family room, watching the tape that had been recorded that day. They watched as Mort Rainey, famous author, talked about his book and his life, and how the two were connected. When Amber came on screen, described as the pregnant Mrs. Mort Rainey, her parents practically had a heart attack. Their missing daughter was married and going to have a baby!

"We have to do something!" Mrs. Olson cried, jumping out of her seat. "We have to rescue her!"

"What can we do?" Mike asked, looking at his parents. He really wanted his sister home, safe and sound, but he hadn't counted on her having a baby! Still, as long as Amber was safe…

"We can't do anything until we find out where she is," Mr. Olson replied, rubbing his face. "That show could have been recorded ages ago. We have to find out where his book tour ends or ended, and find out where he lives. I'll check his books, and Mike, you check the Internet."

The results were good. That same day, Mike found out that the tour ended in Boston, and his father found out that Mort currently lived in Tashmore Lake, New York, but figured that she would be in New York City for when she had her baby. Mr. Olson immediately booked a flight for three out to New York City, and three days later, the Olson family was on its way East.

* * *

_Amber's POV_

:

The past two months were some of the loneliest of my life. Mort was busy with his tour, and I was pretty much alone in a rented hotel suite, resting and preparing for the baby's arrival. I had doctors visiting me and Mort constantly calling to check on me, but I was still lonely. I didn't even have Bubbles with me because there was no way for me to be able to care for her or hold her in my lap. I ended up sending her to Mort's agent to be cared for, and was so lonely I could almost cry. However, about a week before the baby was due, I was asleep on the couch, and when I opened my eyes, I saw familiar blue eyes looking into mine.

"Daddy?" I asked, rubbing my eyes. But that was impossible, right? He was thousands of miles away from here, how could he possibly find me?

"How are you doing, pumpkin?" he asked, smiling down at me; my mother and brother stood behind him. I felt my eyes fill with tears and sat up, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"How did you find me?" I asked, tears falling down my face.

"It doesn't matter," he said, pulling back. He looked at my stomach and raised an eyebrow. "Well, you're further along than we thought!" he joked, grinning down at me. "Now, let's get you out of here, hmm?"

I froze, my hand going to my stomach. "What? Where are we going?"

"We're going to get you out of here," he said, trying to pull me up.

"You're not taking her anywhere," said a voice from the doorway. We all turned around. There in the doorway stood my husband.

"Mort, you're back!" I gasped, extremely surprised and happy he was here. He smiled as he walked towards me, but stopped as my father put himself between us.

"She's coming with us," Dad snapped, blue eyes blazing. "She's coming home."

"She is home," Mort growled, his brown eyes turning dark and dangerous. "She is my wife, and the mother of my child."

"There is no way you're getting your hands on that baby!" my mom cried, standing next to my dad.

"_That baby_, as you call it, is _my_ child," Mort said, slowly edging closer. "I will not let you take the two most important things in my life away from me!"

As I watched the people I loved most argue about my fate, I felt lost. I didn't want to go home, not to the lonely, pointless existence I'd had back there. I had nothing back there to go home to, nothing that I couldn't visit for a short period of time, anyway. I didn't have many friends, and I definitely didn't want my mom getting her claws on my baby! There was no way I was going to let her mentally and emotionally scar my baby like she did with me and my brother! _And Mort loves and cherishes me_…

I suddenly felt a bolt of pain in my stomach and a trickle of water streaming between my legs.

"Oh!" I cried, clutching my belly. Everyone shut up and turned to look at me. Mike was beside me in an instant.

"Sissy, are you okay?" he asked. He only called me Sissy when he was scared about something.

"The baby," I gasped, the pain becoming unbearable. "The baby is coming!"

* * *

AN: Dun, dun, dun! Cliffhanger! Review, and maybe I'll post the next chapter sooner (wink, wink)!


	12. Confrontations and New Arrivals

Disclaimer: I (sadly) don't own Mort or anything **Secret Window**.

AN: The baby is on its way, which means that the story is almost over! Don't forget, a sequel depends on the ending of this story, but keep your eyes open no matter what, because I _will_ be writing another **_Secret Window_** story after this! Happy reading!

**Chapter 12: Confrontations and New Arrivals**:

_Mort's POV_:

The moment that Mort had walked up to the door of the hotel suite, he felt panic grip him. The door was open, and the bodyguards were gone! He knew they got a couple hours off at night, but Amber never left the door open like this! What if something happened to her?! Alarmed at the situation, Mort raced for the door, stopping dead in his tracks at what he saw. There was his wife, hugging another man, and there was a woman and a teenage boy in the room with them! Mort felt his heart stop. Oh, God, they were her parents and brother...he'd seen them leaving the house to go to work and school, and would know them anywhere...

"We're going to get you out of here," Amber's father said, trying to pull her up off the couch.

"You're not taking her anywhere," Mort said. They all turned around.

"Mort, you're back!" Amber gasped, extremely surprised and happy he was here.

Mort smiled as he walked towards his wife, but stopped when her father put himself between them.

"She's coming with us," he snapped, blue eyes blazing. "She's coming home."

Mort felt his blood boil. How _dare_ this man attempt to take Amber away from him! They were connected, bonded together in more ways then this man could even comprehend! Proof of their love was growing in her belly!

"She is home," he growled at Mr. Olson, brown eyes narrowing. "She is my wife, and the mother of my child."

"There is no way you're getting your hands on that baby!" a female voice shrieked. This had to be Amber's mother. He could see where Amber got her almond-shaped eyes and dark hair from. _She may be her mother, but Hell will freeze over before I let her touch my wife and child!_

"_That baby_, as you call it, is _my_ child," Mort said, slowly edging closer to Amber's side. "I _will not_ let you take the two most important things in my life away from me!"

It was true. If anyone, or anything, tried to come between him and Amber, he would make sure they ended up like Ted and Amy. There would be no need to call up Shooter, because Mort was confident that he could do this all on his own. He glared at her parents and brother.

"You won't have a choice about giving her up once the law is involved," her father threatened. "You stole her from us, and you'll be in prison so long, the baby will be an adult when you get out!"

A growl escaped Mort's throat. "Amber is part of my soul," he snarled. "Not only that, but we are married, completely, under United States federal law. A judge of the state has seen and signed our marriage certificate!"

Mrs. Olson's jaw clenched. "You probably _forced_ her to sign it!" she snapped. "I want my daughter home, now!"

"Oh!" cried a voice. Everyone stopped arguing and turned towards Amber, who was clutching her belly. Her brother was beside her in an instant.

"Sissy, are you okay?" the teenage boy asked. Mort was confused, but then realized that '_Sissy_' must be his nickname for Amber.

"The baby," Amber gasped. "The baby is coming!"

Mort instantly began to panic. There was no way for him to get Amber out of here without alerting her parents, and he was _not_ going to let them touch his wife before she had their baby! As her family bent over her, clutching her hand and telling her to breathe, Mort reached into his pocket and pulled out a special device that had an emergency button on it for when the baby came. He pressed the button, then pulled out his cell-phone and put up to his ear, quick-dialing a specific number.

"Hello?" asked a deep, manly voice.

"Phil, is that you?" Mort whispered.

"Yeah… is that you, Mr. Rainey?" Phil replied. "Is something wrong?"

"Phil, where are you?" Mort snapped. "I need you and your guys to get off of your asses and up here, now!"

"We're on the elevator now, sir," Phil replied. "We'll be there in seconds!"

"You'd better be." Mort hung up and turned to see his wife's parents and brother still hovering over her. He cleared his throat, catching their attention. "The ambulance is on its way," he said, telling a half-lie. It _was_ on the way, but so was security.

Seconds later, five men quietly slipped into the room. They all looked towards Mort for orders, and he jerked his head towards his three "in-laws." The guards nodded and quickly grabbed them, pulling them away from Amber. Meanwhile, Mort rushed to his wife's side, taking her hands in his, letting her squeeze them as another contraction hit.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!" Mr. Olson roared as he struggled against the grip of the guards holding him prisoner. "MY DAUGHTER IS HAVING A BABY!"

Mort glared at him. "Yes, she is…_my_ baby, to be precise, and I want _you_ as far away from her as possible!" He helped Amber stand up, leading her towards the door, looking at his chief of security. "Phil, keep these three under guard until Mrs. Rainey and I are far away from here!"

"Yes, sir," declared the huge man holding Amber's mother by her arms. "We'll keep 'em here."

Confident in their abilities, Mort led his wife towards the elevators and downstairs, where he was going to see if the ambulance had arrived to meet them.

* * *

_Amber's POV_: 

I had never been in so much pain in my life! I mean, who knew having a baby could be so **_painful_**?! And I had to go through this for _how_ _many_ hours? It had better not take a day or more, or someone's going to get hurt! It wouldn't be Mort, though…he was so sweet and caring that I couldn't hurt him, even if he _was_ the one that had gotten me pregnant in the first place.

Speaking of Mort, he looked like he was ready to pass out. **_I_** was the one who was pregnant, and _he's_ the one who looks like he's going to be sick! Still, it was sweet of him to be holding my hand and standing by me throughout this whole thing. I was even more thankful that he had gotten rid of my parents during this time. Mom would probably be screaming at me and offering advice that I didn't want or need, and who knows what Dad would be doing right now! I wish I had Mike with me, though; he's my little brother, and I'm closer to him than to my folks. On the other hand, Mike had a low tolerance for blood and gore, so maybe it was best that he wasn't with me while I gave birth.

By this time, Mort and I had reached the lobby of the hotel, and several bellboys turned to look at us. They immediately went into a group huddle and whispered to one another before breaking apart, heading towards us. I knew a few of them from my daily walks around the ground floor of the hotel, and they were always happy to help me. On my "travels" around the hotel lobby, whenever I felt the need to sit down, stand up, or had a huge craving for something, The Boys (as they called themselves) were always there to help me sit down, stand up, or fetch me some refreshment or another. The doorman and people at the front desk also knew me, and waved when they saw me. By now, the bellboys had arrived, and they all had anxious looks on their faces.

"You okay, Mrs. Rainey?" asked a boy with blue eyes and light brown hair. It was Billy, the sweetest of the group, and the one who always trailed after me, checking to see if I ever needed anything. He's Irish, and the combinations of his accent and bad jokes always made me laugh when I felt sad or upset.

At that moment, a jolt of pain hit me, and I let out a sound that bordered between a yelp and a growl. The eyes of every male around me widened, and I could tell they were getting ready to panic about what to do with me, the pregnant woman in front of them. I forced a smile and tried speaking to them.

"Is an ambulance here yet, Billy?" I gasped. "It should be here by now."

Billy began to look excited. "The little one's on the way, is it?" he asked, looking at my stomach.

"_The ambulance_, Billy," I said, gritting my teeth.

"Oh, right!" he said, looking towards the front door. "It just arrived, we were just wondering who it was for."

"That would be us," Mort said, wrapping his arm tighter around my waist. "Let's go, darling."

I nodded, and The Boys all came to escort us to the door. The emergency people looked relieved to see us and eagerly helped me onto a gurney, which they then lifted into the back of the ambulance. Mort jumped in with me, and they were about to close the doors when another bellboy, Jack, came running up with my small pregnancy bag filled with my clothes and necessities. I managed a smile at him before the doors closed and we were off to the hospital.

* * *

_Mort's POV_: 

Watching Amber suffer through so much pain was like a stab to his heart. He knew that the birthing was supposed to be painful, but _knowing_ and _seeing_ were two different things! Amber looked like she was dying from it, and Mort felt powerless to help her. God knew that he wanted to take the pain away, but he couldn't…however there _were_ people who _could_. He turned to the emergency person sitting across from him. It was a woman, and she was dabbing Amber's forehead with a damp cloth.

"Can't you give her something for the pain?" Mort asked, clutching Amber's hand tightly in his, his face taut with worry.

The woman shook her head. "It's too soon," she said. "She won't be fully dilated for hours yet, and any medication given to her now could hurt the baby. She'll have to wait until we get to the hospital."

Mort gulped. He wanted the baby safe, but he also wanted to stop Amber's pain. He didn't want to choose between Amber's life and the life of their baby. _God, please don't make me choose between them…I can't choose between the love of my life or the life of my baby! I can't do it!_ A hand gripped his shoulder, and he looked up.

"She'll be fine, sir," the woman said, smiling. "This is your first baby, right?" Mort nodded, and the woman (**_Shelly_**, it said on her name tag) smiled back. "All fathers panic the first time. Trust me, she'll be fine. The pain and yelling is all part of the process, don't worry."

How could he _not_ worry? His wife was in pain, for God's sakes, and they still weren't doing anything to help her! Still, if the professionals said it was normal, then it had to be so, or they would be doing all sorts of emergency stuff to her, right? Mort nodded to himself. Right…this had to be normal…perfectly normal.

Looking at his wife, he saw her give him a tight smile before another contraction hit her. Her hand gripped his, and despite the pain he felt running through his arm, Mort smiled back.

* * *

_Amber's POV_: 

It felt like forever until we reached the hospital. I felt pain in every single part of my body, and I wanted to just pass out or die…_but if I died, who will take care of my beautiful baby? And what would happen to Mort if I died? He'd be crushed, and our baby will have to be raised by my parents!_ Oh, God, there was _no way_ I was ever going to let that happen! Not in a million years!

A tremendous stab of pain made me scream, and I felt Mort grip my hand. Looking up at him, I saw panic and concern in his eyes, concern for me. Despite the pain, I smiled. He was such a good man, and our baby boy or girl would be lucky to have him for a father. The smile I directed at him seemed to reassure Mort that I was okay and he smiled back, seeming to relax a bit. The rest of the ride was like this, me crying out in pain and Mort squeezing my hand until I gave him a sign that I was still alright. However, by the time we got there, the pain was so bad I was unable to smile at him anymore, so I just gave his hand small, gentle strokes with my fingers (when they weren't squishing the feeling out of it).

On our arrival, a group of nurses and doctors were there to greet me and hustle me off to a sterile white room, where I was made to sit up and breathe a lot. Mort came in several minutes later in blue scrubs and gloves, and a panicked look in his eyes. He looked so handsome and comical at the same time I let out a small chuckle between contractions, which were coming slightly quicker and more painful.

Mort gave me an odd look when I chuckled, but when he realized that he had made me laugh, he smiled and put his hand on mine, the other going to rest on my shoulder. He began rubbing up and down my arm, trying to sooth me, but with the pain so intense, it didn't help much. However, just knowing that Mort was there for me helped to make me feel a bit better about the whole thing.

* * *

_In the hotel, Third Person POV_: 

Michael Olson was bored out of his mind. Watching his father pace the room and mutter things under his breath had gotten old a while ago, and his mother looked like she wanted to kill the five or six guards observing their every move. Mike could understand what angle they were coming from, though. His sister had obviously been happy with this Rainey guy, and their parents had tried to take her from him. It was wrong, but _he_ wasn't about to tell his parents that! The reasons for that were all fairly obvious.

First of all, his mother was _not_ the type of person you want as a mom; she was unstable and mentally abusive, and Amber's baby deserved better than having to live with a grandmother who would torment it and scar it beyond repair. And his dad…well, he was a good man, and a good father, but sometimes he didn't know when to step in and help his children. He'd let his wife hurt his kids and didn't do much to stop her. You'd think that he'd have done _something_ by now, but it never happened.

Inwardly sighing, Mike knew that Mort Rainey was probably the best thing to ever happen to Amber, and they belonged together, despite what his parents thought. She deserved to be happy, and being married with a baby would certainly make her happy! He would really miss her, though. She was his big sister, and had been there through thick and thin for him. Maybe he could visit her during vacation…how else was he supposed to see his niece or nephew?

Smirking, Mike watched as his father continued his muttering and his mother begin to pick at her nails. Maybe Amber would let him live with her after all this was cleared up? It was an idea…

* * *

_Hours later, Amber's POV_: 

I let out another scream and gripped Mort's hand in a death-grip. I could see the pain in his face, but he kept hanging on to me. I'd told him to let go, but he simply looked at me like I was crazed.

"I refuse to let you go through this pain all by yourself," he'd declared. He probably regretted having made that decision now, but it was too late. I had him and I wasn't about to let go!

Another bolt of pain gripped my stomach, and I felt like the baby was going to spring out of me right then and there. It had been like this for hours, but the nurses and doctors kept telling me that I still had a few hours, and that I needed to dilate some more. I wanted to kill them for telling me that, but with the contractions, I wasn't able to go far or do much. Sweat poured down my face, and a nurse dabbed my forehead.

"Okay Amber, it's time to push!" said a voice in front of me. "You've dilated enough, so when I tell you to, push, okay?"

I nodded, and waited for the next contraction. When it hit me, I pushed, just like they told me to. God, it felt like I was being ripped apart! My stomach clenched, and I felt ready to pass out, but I pushed anyway. This happened several more times, and each time, the pain got worse. I was just about to give up when I heard the words I'd been praying for this whole day.

"One more push, Amber," said a doctor.

Gripping Mort's hand, I gave one last push and fell back on the bed, unable to give any more. I waited and was rewarded with the sound of something being slapped and a tiny wail. I let my body fully relax against the bed and pillows, my eyes drifting up to Mort's face, which was just as relieved as mine. He looked down at me and smiled, his face lighting up with pride. He was about to say something, but was interrupted by the doctor carrying my new baby over to me.

"It's a girl," he whispered, holding her out to me.

I took my little girl in my arms and felt as though something clicked inside my heart. Her eyes were closed, but I could see that she had a thick lock of hair, a mixture of blond and slightly reddish-brown. I smiled and looked up at Mort, who looked as though I were holding the most precious, most divine creature in the world…though perhaps I was…

"Mort, would you like to hold your daughter?" I asked, smiling up at him.

He stared at me, wide-eyed like a little boy, and nodded. I handed the little squirming bundle to him, and watched as he gently stroked her hair and then her little hands. It was such a sweet picture that I wanted to cry. Instead, I asked him a very important question.

"Mort, what are we going to name her?"

* * *

_Mort's POV_: 

His mind instantly drew blank when Amber asked him that. He had been so filled with wonder and joy at this new life that he forgot he had to name her!

"Uh," he said, looking down at the baby. "I have no idea." He looked at his wife. "What do _you_ want to call her?"

"Well," Amber said thoughtfully. "I've always wanted to call my daughter Elizabeth, after England's greatest queen. I've always admired her for being so strong and independent that I hoped to one day have a daughter like her."

Mort smiled. His wife was both smart _and_ beautiful…what a combination! "Elizabeth it is," he said, looking down at his little girl, who was yawning. "What about a middle name?"

Amber shrugged and closed her eyes. "You pick," she said, yawning. "I'm going to go to sleep." With those words, she was fast asleep.

Mort looked down at his sleeping wife and chuckled. "Alright," he said, looking at the two sleeping beauties in his life, but focusing on his tiny daughter. "I'm going to give you your mother's name, because she's the smartest and most beautiful woman in the world and I hope that one day you'll be just like her." Mort held his daughter up so that she was barely an inch away from his face before he spoke. "She'll probably be mad at me, but I don't care," he whispered so as not to wake Amber. "You'll be Elizabeth Amber Rainey." He gently kissed her soft forehead. "Welcome to the world, sweetness."

The baby yawned and sighed as she snuggled down in her father's arms.

* * *

AN: It's a girl! Break out the party decorations and champagne! Drinks all around, people! Woohoo! (coughs) Anyway, I hope that everyone's happy with the gender of the baby and that you all enjoyed reading this chapter. Also,show your love for this fic and **_review_**! Thanks! 


	13. Tales of the Past

Disclaimer: I don't own Mort Rainey or anything **_Secret Window_**. That belongs to Stephen King.

AN: My decision on a sequel hangs in the balance. I might not do one, but you never know. I suggest that you keep an eye open because you never know what kind of story might be written next! Oh, and this chapter might be a bit "Mary-Sueish," because we hear about Amber's childhood and how she grew up. It's important to read because it explains a few things about why Amber is the way she is, but if you want to pass on it, go ahead. Other than that, enjoy the chapter!

**Chapter 13: Tales of the Past**:

_Amber's POV_:

I felt sunlight hit my eyes, and winced. I was so tired that all I wanted to do was take a three-day nap. I never thought giving birth could be so painful and exhausting! Well, I knew it'd be painful, considering I've heard others complain about it and how long they were giving birth. Of course, if you think about it, being in pain that long _would_ make a person exhausted, wouldn't it? Okay, now I'm babbling…time for sleep again…

I nearly fell back to sleep when I felt lips gently press against mine. I opened my eyes and saw Mort smiling down at me from the right side of my bed. I returned his smile, but quickly yawned. I covered my mouth and blushed. He chuckled and took my hand from my mouth.

"Ah, the fair maiden awakens," he whispered, leaning closer to me and kissing my hand before pressing his forehead to mine. "How do you feel?"

"Tired," I whispered, my eyes beginning to flutter shut again. I wanted to go back to sleep, but I needed to be sure of one thing before I could rest. "Is Elizabeth alright?"

Mort gave me a soft, loving smile. "She's fine, darling," he said, rubbing his nose against mine. "She's the most beautiful and most perfect baby girl in the world, though I'm sure _you_ were just as perfect when _you_ were born."

I let out a small chuckle as I pulled back from his face. "But she's healthy, right?" I asked, looking up at him. I _needed_ my precious baby to be healthy.

Mort nodded. "She's happy, healthy, and fine," he said, reaching up to stroke my cheek. "In fact, I think the nurse might bring her in soon in order to have you feed her."

I closed my eyes and winced. "I don't think I feel up to breastfeeding her, Mort," I said. "If I did, I might fall asleep and drop her."

Mort chuckled and shook his head. "I don't think you'll drop her," he replied. "You're too good of a person and a mother to let that happen."

I looked at him skeptically. "Mort, I've only been a mother for…" I blinked, unsure of what time I had given birth and how long I'd been asleep. "How long _have_ I been a mother, anyway?"

He laughed. "About twelve hours," he said. "You had her around nine o'clock last night, and it's nine in the morning now." His eyes grew worried. "You were in there for about ten hours, darling."

I gave him a small smile. "But it was worth it, wasn't it?"

"Absolutely," he whispered, softly caressing my face again.

Leaning in, he pressed his lips against mine, and I was amazed that he loved me so much. I'd thought that love could never happen to me, and now it had! He called me his wife, his love, his darling, and a good mother to his child. I never thought a man could care for me like that. Loving it, I closed my eyes and enjoyed our kiss.

Our tender moment was disturbed by someone's polite coughing. We broke apart and turned towards the door. There was a nurse standing in the doorway with a covered tray, which likely contained my breakfast. Smiling, she placed the tray on a small roller-table and wheeled it over to me. Without saying a word, she turned and left, closing the door behind her.

Famished, I looked at the cover and winced. Hospital food…I could swear that it was the blandest food in the universe. I'd had food from hospital cafeterias when visiting friends or relatives who were recovering from surgery, and it'd all had just the barest hint of taste. I could only imagine what the patients' food was like!

"You need to eat it, Beautiful," Mort said, removing the cover from the tray. "You need your strength for taking care of our little one."

I sighed and looked at the tray. There was toast, Jell-O, some jelly packets for the toast, fresh fruit, and some eggs. The eggs just looked nasty, so I passed on those. The rest looked safe, though, and I polished it off in record time. Mort frowned when I refused the eggs, but promised to bring me something from a nearby café later. He was just removing the tray when a different nurse walked in, my baby girl in her arms and a smile on her face.

"Glad you're awake, Mrs. Rainey," she said. "It's time for the baby's feeding."

"Elizabeth," Mort said. "The baby's name is Elizabeth."

The nurse's lips twitched in amusement. "Okay, it's time to feed Elizabeth, then." She handed the tiny, wiggling bundle to me and stepped back.

Looking down at my little girl, I saw her eyes flutter open, her chocolate-dark eyes staring at me. I smiled and caressed her cheek, murmuring nonsense to her. Elizabeth simply looked at me, blinking and occasionally glancing around, but always coming back to my face. We sat that way for a little bit, and then she began to squirm and fuss a bit. I looked at the nurse, clueless about what to do next.

The nurse chuckled. "You need to breastfeed her," she said. Coming over, she helped me get into the right position and arranged my gown so that I could easily hold Elizabeth against me while she ate. Mort looked uncomfortable with me exposing my breast in public, but since it was going to be just the nurse, me, Elizabeth, and him, he didn't say anything. Instead, he helped me get comfortable and gave me encouraging smiles.

Once the gown was pulled down and Elizabeth was comfortably nestled in my arms, I carefully guided her to my left breast and let her feed. It was the strangest sensation I'd ever experienced, but it felt _right_. I noticed that Mort had taken a seat on the bed to my right and had put his head next to mine on my right shoulder, watching Elizabeth as she ate. I could feel his hot breath on my face and his hands on my upper-arms, gently holding and rubbing them. All in all, it was a wonderful family moment…well, besides the fact that the nurse was standing next to us, watching me as I fed the baby.

Once Elizabeth had drained my left breast, her face scrunched up and began fussing and crying. I looked at the nurse for some help, but she just smiled. I was on my own for this one. Sighing, I looked down and, thinking that she might still be hungry, I shifted Elizabeth so she could now feed off my right breast. Once she latched onto my breast, she instantly stopped crying and went on feeding. I sighed with relief and could hear Mort chuckle.

"And what, exactly, is so funny?" I asked, turning my head to look at him.

He chuckled again. "You," he said, moving his head so our noses rubbed against one another. "You're a natural mother, Amber, like I knew you'd be."

Mort then kissed my nose, his beard and mustache tickling me. I giggled softly so as not to disturb Elizabeth, and held her closer. She whined a little, but didn't stop feeding. It was several more minutes before she was done, but I knew that a full baby is a happy baby. The nurse came up and placed a towel over my shoulder, and I moved Elizabeth so I could burp her. I was sort of scared about burping her, considering that babies throw up sometimes when you do, but it couldn't be helped. Instead, I just patted her gently on the back, and was overjoyed to hear a tiny '_burp_.' I had successfully burped my baby girl!

"I'll take her now, Mrs. Rainey," the nurse said, coming up to me.

I instinctively clutched Elizabeth to me. "Do I have to? It's only the second time I've seen and held her, and the first time we've really been together as a family."

The nurse smiled. "Well, I'm sure I can leave you for a little while," she said, turning to leave the room. The door clicked shut behind her, and Mort and I were left alone with our little girl.

As I held Elizabeth, I wondered about her future. Would she be happy with me for a mother? Could I raise her to be a good, caring, moral person? Would Mort and I be good parents, and would we raise her right? As I pondered our future together as a family, I couldn't help but think about my own child hood and all of the hardships my mother had put me through. Just thinking about Mom gave me the shivers, and I protectively clutched my baby closer to my breast.

"Amber?" asked the warm, husky voice of my husband. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," I said as I relaxed my grip on my daughter and looked up at him, giving him a forced smile.

Mort frowned. "No, you're not," he said, wrapping an arm around my waist. "What were you thinking about?"

I looked away. I couldn't upset Mort with depressing stories, especially when I had just given him such a beautiful baby girl! I couldn't do that to him…

"Amber?"

Looking up, I saw his eyes plead with me, begging me to tell him what was wrong so he could make me feel better. I sighed, knowing that I couldn't resist those warm brown eyes of his.

"I was thinking about Elizabeth's future childhood, and that reminded me of my own," I said, looking down at my dozing baby. Mort's hand reached around and gently gripped my chin, making me turn to look at him.

"Tell me," he whispered. It wasn't a command, but for some reason, I didn't want to refuse him.

"Well," I said, licking my dry lips. "When I was growing up, my mother and her brothers and sisters were always on my back, telling me what to do and how to do it. They were fine when I was little, and they were always sweet and did what normal families did with little children, like encourage me and tell me how adorable I was. My aunts dressed me up in little dresses of velvet, lace, and ribbons, like I was a doll, and would always coo over me. They would also drive me and my mom around to places where we could just be together and have fun. My uncles would play with me and buy me all sorts of toys and gifts for me to play with."

I sighed. "Things changed when I turned ten. They started acting as though I had the mental equivalence of an adult, and had the life experience of one, too. They began telling me how many things I did wrong, how I should have known better when I did things, and how many bad choices I had made. Nothing I did was ever good enough to make them happy.

"Mother was the worst of all. She was always giving advice, telling me how stupid I was for not doing what she suggested and scolding me if I actually _did_ follow her advice and it didn't work. If her idea didn't work, she always blamed me, telling me how it was my fault it didn't work, and that I hadn't done it right in the first place!"

I felt Mort's arm tighten around my waist, and I leaned back against his shoulder.

"My teenage years were the worst. Once I started my growth spurt and began looking really thin, Mom began telling me how skinny I was, that I should eat more. I did, but not enough to make her happy. When my skinny years ended and I started gaining the muscle to make up for my skinniness, Mom began telling me how fat I was and that I ate too much!"

I felt tears in my eyes and quickly wiped them away.

"No matter what I did, I just couldn't please her! Even when I graduated from high school and college, she was disappointed it me! When I couldn't find work, she told me that I wasn't trying hard enough and that I should try harder! Dad tried to help with everything, but all he mostly did was sit there and watched while my brother and I got emotionally scared by our mother!"

I felt an arm settle around my shoulders and a warm body against me. Looking up, I saw Mort gazing down at me, his brown eyes intense as he held me against him. I could only stare back as his head bent down and his lips pressed against mine in a blinding kiss. With his lips against mine, I forgot every other emotion except the blissful one his lips were giving me right now. When he pulled away, I felt calm and loved, which was probably what he intended.

"Now you listen to me, darling," Mort said, staring into my eyes. "You are the most beautiful, warm, caring woman I've ever met, and you are perfect just the way you are. No matter what happens, our child will not be raised the way you were. She will be cherished like the treasure she is and she will be loved like every child deserves to be."

My eyes swelled with tears again, but instead of sadness causing them, it was joy. Mort truly believed that I was beautiful and perfect the way I was, despite of the ways I had been raised and the ways I treated him during our time together. Did I really deserve such a wonderful man as my husband?

"I don't deserve you," I said before I could think.

"No," Mort said, looking me right in the eye. "You deserve better."

I shook my head and smiled. "I wouldn't trade you-" I looked down at the sleeping Elizabeth, "the both of you, for anything in the world!"

Mort leaned forward and kissed me again, and another sense of peace overwhelmed me.

* * *

_Earlier that day, the Rainey hotel room, Mike Olson's POV_:

The previous day and past night had not been very pleasant for the Olson family.

Forced apart from their oldest child, and confined in a hotel room with guards outside the door, Mr. and Mrs. Olson had spent the entire day and night sitting and talking together. Their focus was about what they could do to get their daughter away from the freak of a madman who had taken her. Both wanted to take tremendous legal action against her abductor, the author Mort Rainey, and have justice dealt out to the fullest extent their lawyers could take it. Mr. Olson wanted to sue Mr. Rainey for every penny he was worth to make up for the fact that he had taken Amber, and to help with raising the baby that Amber now carried inside her. He wanted his grandchild well taken care of, and a lawsuit would likely be the best bet.

Mrs. Olson, on the other hand, not only wanted the money, but she wanted Mr. Rainey to suffer as she had suffered during the time Amber had been gone. She had no doubt that Amber would agree that her abductor should come to a painful end for getting her pregnant. Her daughter, pregnant at such a young age! It was outrageous, and she would not stand for it!

As the two older Olsons argued throughout the night in the master bedroom, the youngest member of the family lay on his side on the couch, facing away from his parents. Mike Olson had tried not to think about the large belly his older sister now sported, and the precious life she carried inside her. His sister, the one who had stuck by him through so much and who had encouraged him when their mother had tried to tear them down with her cruel words. She was always there for him, and when she had vanished, he had been heartbroken. Seeing her alive and pregnant on TV had shocked him, and when he had seen how happy she was, he began to think. What if she was happy with Mort Rainey? Amber had never had a boyfriend before in her life, and here she was, married and pregnant, all in the span of ten months! She positively glowed on TV, and that was a sure sign that she was happy where she was, how eager she was to meet life with a husband at her side and a baby in her arms.

Groaning, Mike had gone to sleep with the sound of his parents arguing in the background.

The next morning had been hard, too. Mr. and Mrs. Olson were yelling at the guards, demanding to be freed, when one of them left to answer his cellphone. Mike had crept over to the door and listened to the info the guard was repeating back to the other person on the line. It was info about Amber, and the place they had taken her! Excited, Mike silently went back to the couch and checked to make sure no one had missed him.

They hadn't.

A moment later, the missing guard returned and nodded at the chief, who had been dealing with Mike's parents. Suddenly, the guard gave them a small bow and told them they were free to leave the hotel. Mike was surprised, but understood that the guards had only been waiting for a signal that Amber had given birth, and that it was safe to release her family.

Needless to say, his mom and dad were shocked, but didn't argue. His dad grabbed his mom and him, dragged them out the door and onto an elevator. The ride downstairs was eerily quiet, and Mike could tell that his parents were angry and desperate to find Amber and her baby. They were worried about her, and needed to know whether she was safe or not with the man who had taken her. After all, she was their only daughter, and they needed to be truly sure about her safety. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore.

"I know where Amber is," he said softly into the silent air.

His parents turned to look at him, and Mike could only hope that Amber wouldn't be mad at him for wanting to help their parents find out if she was safe or not. If she was, he was going to be in _deep_ _trouble_ when they found her.

Taking a deep breath, he told them what he had learned from the security guard's conversation.

* * *

_Amber's POV_:

The rest of the morning and early afternoon flew by. Even though the nurse came by a few times to take Elizabeth back to the nursery and bring her back later, Mort and I couldn't get enough of the family time that we had. We would take turns holding our little baby girl, cooing nonsense to her and making countless promises of wonderful presents on future birthdays and Christmases. However, Mort promised her what every little girl wants for a gift: a pretty pony in her future at our cabin at Tashmore Lake. Although, _how_ he was going to get a pony up there and take care of it was _beyond_ me.

Meanwhile, as I held our living, tiny treasure, I promised her things I could actually _give_ her. I promised her days filled with love and caring and laughter. I promised her happy times, fixed booboos and interesting learning experiences that she would never forget. I promised her all the books she could ever want to read and study throughout her lifetime. True, the cabin was small, but we would manage the promises the best we could. The last things I promised her were the best education her father and I could give her with the money he could make, and a family trip around the world so she experience life instead of hearing or reading about it. It sounds like a lot, but nothing is too much for our baby girl!

Suddenly, Elizabeth started squirming, so I began to try and rock her to calm her down. She had just started drifting off to dreams when the door flew open and my parents entered the room.

* * *

AN: Oh, another cliffhanger! Please leave a review, since the next chapter is the last! Thanks! 


	14. Cutting Away the Past

Disclaimer: Still don't own anything **_Secret Window_**. It's all Stephen King's.

AN: Last chapter! I hope that you all enjoyed what you've read, and thanks so much for the reviews! You're wonderful, and I really appreciate it. Keep an eye out for future **_Secret Window_** or **_Pirates of the Caribbean_** stories; you never know when they'll show up! Happy reading!

_Happy Holidays to all of my readers and reviewers everywhere! Thanks for everything, and I hope to see you again at the next story!_

**Chapter 14: Cutting Away the Past**:

_Mort's POV_:

As soon as they saw who had rudely burst into the room, Mort saw his wife go pale. He instantly moved around the bed so that he stood between his wife and daughter, ready to protect them from the intruders that had come to take them away. Mr. Olson's eyes narrowed as soon as he saw who stood between himand_ his_ daughter.

"We've come to take Amber home," Amber's father said, repeating what he'd said in the hotel room just a day earlier. Mrs. Olson stood right behind him, her son remaining in the doorway, seemingly hesitant about getting involved in all this.

Mort gritted his teeth. "There is no way I'm going to let you take my wife and daughter away from me," he growled, his hands curling into fists as he felt his blood pound in his veins. Mort was absolutely ready to defend his family, no matter what it took to keep them here with him and out of the hands of Amber's parents. Mr. Olson also clenched his fists.

"Please, stop!" Amber cried, catching the attention of everyone in the room. Elizabeth began to cry. "Now look what you've done! You scared her!" Amber chided them, rocking the tiny baby and cooing to her in an attempt to sooth her to sleep.

The Olsons peered around Mort and stared as though they had just seen the small bundle in Amber's arms. Her brother slowly crept forward, curiosity in his brown eyes. Mort moved to stop him, but Amber reached out and touched his arm, stopping him in his tracks. When the teenage boy reached his sister's side, he looked at the bundle in her arms, a question in his eyes. Mort held his breath as Amber smiled and reached a hand out to her brother.

* * *

_Amber's POV_: 

Watching my parents and Mort come within an inch of killing each other was the most painful experience of my life. Oh, God, I didn't want anyone I loved to get hurt! I wanted to stop them, but I was holding Elizabeth, and I wasn't going to risk her getting hurt. Since I couldn't stop them physically, I did it the only other way I could.

"Please, stop!" I cried. When they all turned towards me, Elizabeth began to cry, obviously scared out of her wits by the sound of loud voices. "Now look what you've done! You scared her!" I scolded, rocking her to calm her down.

Looking up from my calming baby girl, I noticed Mike creeping his way towards me, wanting to get a closer look. Mort tried to stop him, but I grabbed his arm. I wanted my brother to see his niece, so I reached a hand out towards him, taking the hand that he offered in return and bringing him closer. When he was next to me, I held up my daughter for him to see.

"Hey, baby brother, come meet your niece," I said softly. Mike's eyes widened as he looked. "Her name is Elizabeth."

"Elizabeth Amber Rainey," Mort said, beaming proudly. I raised an eyebrow at the chosen middle name, and he shrugged. "Sorry, darling, I couldn't resist."

I rolled my eyes and let my brother look at my pride and joy. "Mort, could you let them through?" I asked. I saw him hesitate. "If they try anything, you're welcome to beat them up afterwards," I said, seriously. Mort nodded moved to my side, a protective air around him as he let my parents approach me. I knew that if they did try anything, Mort would be sure that there'd be Hell to pay.

My parents came forward and looked down at the bundle I held in my arms. My dad sort of had an excited gleam in his eyes, but my mother was frowning like crazy. Well, daughters _were_ unwanted in China, so I guess she was disappointed that I hadn't had a son. It didn't matter, though…my baby girl was the most precious thing in the world to me, so she could just live with it! I'll never let her near Elizabeth in the future, anyway.

"Amber, what happened to you?" my mother demanded.

I sighed and gave them the cliffnote version of past events. My parents' eyes widened with every detail that I described, but grew red with anger when they heard that Mort had practically raped me the first day I was in his cabin. I told them that if Mort hadn't slept with me that day, I wouldn't be holding my baby right now, and that it hadn't actually been rape…I _had_ given in to him, and was happy that I had. When I talked about the tour of Europe and all of the things I had seen and done there, my brother looked at me with envy and wanted to hear about the entire thing in detail. However, my mom stopped me and made me go on with my story. When I was done talking about everything, I was tired and a nurse had come in to take Elizabeth back to the nursery. Once she had left, my folks were glaring at Mort; if looks could kill, Mort would be dead a thousand times over.

"Amber, we want you and Elizabeth home with us," my father demanded. I knew that tone and knew he wouldn't take '_no_' for an answer. He was stubborn, but then, so was Mort.

"That will never happen," Mort snapped, protectively grasping my hand with his.

"You have no say in this, you kidnapper!" my mother snarled at him.

I clutched Mort's hand in fright. I recognized my mother's angry tone of voice, and was scared of what she might do. Mort must have felt my fear, because he squeezed my hand in return and stroked it with his thumb. I saw him glaring at her and was amazed at his courage. Mort was _actually_ _challenging my mother_! Even my dad had never done that!

"Lady, if you want them, you'll have to kill me to do it," Mort said, his voice cold and hard. I'd never heard him talk like that before, but it made me feel protected and safe. I didn't get a chance to enjoy the moment, though, because my dad stepped forward, fully intent on carrying out the idea of Mort's death at his hands.

"No, Daddy, don't!" I cried, clutching Mort's arm. "Don't hurt him, please!"

My father stared at me. "But honey, he kidnapped you from your home and your family!" he said, shock written all over his face.

"He did it because he loves me, Dad," I said, clutching Mort's hand in mine as I leaned closer to his side. "He's been nothing but sweet, kind, and loving to me the entire time we've been together, and _I_ _won't let you hurt him_!" The tone of my voice surprised my father, as well as Mort, who looked down at me with hope.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't call the cops on him, sweetie," Dad said, glaring at Mort, who glared back. I turned my gaze to Mort, who broke his staring contest with my father to look me in the eye.

I remembered all of the things we had done together…the weeks we had spent together in the cabin, the way Mort looked at me when he was being "inspired" by me, the way Mort trusted me to help him with his stories, the day Mort had given me Bubbles…and all of the romantic moments we'd had in Europe. But the one that stuck out most was when Mort had given me the most complete and utter trust a husband could give a wife, especially when she was in the presence of another handsome man…the moment of complete trust and…

"Love," I said, looking into my husband's eyes.

"_What_?" my father asked. I could hear the shock and denial in his voice.

"I love him," I repeated, not looking away from the warmth of Mort's eyes.

I felt my husband's hand on my cheek, and closed my eyes, leaning into his soft touch. When his thumb caressed my cheek, I opened my eyes and returned the gesture, watching him snuggle into my hand, reacting the same way I had. I stroked his beard and mustache with my thumb, and when I stroked his lips, he kissed it before smiling at me. We stayed that way for several moments before my mother reached over and broke us apart.

"No!" she cried, pushing Mort away from me. "She's coming home and you're going to jail!"

"Mom, leave them alone!" Mike cried, pushing her back, away from us. "They love each other, and they belong together!"

It was the first time I'd ever seen him stand up to her, and I was proud of him for doing it. I looked at him with thanks, and he nodded in return. Mort took my hand and wrapped an arm around my shoulder, protecting me from anything else that Mom might do. My mother opened her mouth, fully ready to protest, but Mort beat her to it.

"Mrs. Olson, if you or your husband try to take my wife and daughter away from me, there will legal action the likes of which you've never seen," Mort declared, pulling me closer to him. "I suggest you let my wife and I live our lives in peace with our daughter. The two of you will be able to visit, but only if Amber allows it." He glared at her. "I swear that if you so much as make Amber unhappy or uncomfortable in one moment of your company, I'll make sure you _never_ come near her again!"

I was frozen with shock. Mort could make it so Mom could never come near us again if I didn't want her to? This was the most wonderful thing I could hope for. No more being screamed at by her, or being mentally tortured by her twisted insults? No more crying and thinking depressing thoughts because of what Mom had told me that day? It was a dream come true! I'd miss Dad, of course, but all he'd done was sit there and done nothing about Mom's abuse of us. I'd be free…

_But what about Mike?_ He and I had suffered through everything together, and I couldn't leave him at home to suffer though it all alone without me there to protect and support him! I looked up at Mort and turned a quick, concerned look towards my brother. Mort didn't turn around, but he knew who I was asking at. He smiled and turned towards my brother.

"Of course, you're welcome to visit any time you like," he said, smiling at my brother. Mort's smile broadened into a grin. "And we could always use a babysitter for Elizabeth."

Mike rolled his eyes, but smiled. "As long as I get paid for it, consider it done." I gave my brother a smile.

"You can't seriously expect us to _agree_ with this!" Dad yelled.

"Mr. Olson, Amber is capable of making her own decisions, and I believe that this is exactly the arrangement she wants," Mort said, his voice cold and hard, leaving no room for argument.

Everyone looked at me. My parents gave me a pleading look, begging me to see sense and come home. I knew they loved me, in their own ways. Dad loved me and wanted his little girl to come home, like every father wants. I guess even Mom loved me in her own twisted way, but to her, I was the child that should have been a boy, a son she could be proud of instead of a disappointing daughter who had wasted her time and money.

Mike gave me an equally pleading look, but for completely different reasons. He clearly wanted me to get out and away from the web of anguish our mother had woven for us, and wanted me to help him get out of it as well. I think he wanted my daughter to be safe from Mom's grasp as well….

It was a tough case. They were my family, but I had my own now, and I didn't want anything from my past influencing and damaging this new life I had. I needed to be free to do what **_I_** wanted, and what I wanted was to make a loving home with my husband for Elizabeth and any other children Mort and I might have together in the future.

I looked up into Mort's eyes and made my choice.

"I'm staying with my husband. I'm staying with Mort."

* * *

_Two hours later, Mort's POV_: 

Hearing Amber declare her love for him in front of her parents and brother was one of the greatest moments of his life. He knew she loved him! He had known since the moment they had met that they were meant to be, and was ecstatic that she had finally seen it. Even though it had taken a while, she had seen that they belonged together, and that their love was stronger than she thought.

A few hours after their confrontation with her parents, Mort and Amber left the hospital with joy in their hearts and a beautiful baby girl in their arms. As Mort pushed the wheelchair bearing his wife and daughter out the front doors, flashbulbs went off as dozens of reporters tried to be the first ones to get a picture of the Rainey baby and her parents for the evening edition.

Mort didn't mind; he wanted the whole world to see what a beautiful wife and daughter he had been blessed with! He proudly stood behind his wife and beamed like the proud husband and father he was. When the press had been satisfied, they allowed the new family to get into the limo provided for them and watched as they drove off, turning around the corner and vanishing from sight.

* * *

AN: Yay, it's over (does happy dance)! Okay, maybe it's a bad thing that it's over, but I'm glad that this one has come to a conclusion. Now my brain is free to do whatever comes to mind! Keep your eyes open for another **_Secret Window_** story! I can't tell you if a sequel will be written, it's a **_secret_** (wink, wink), so keep your eyes open. Please review, and I hope to see you all soon! 


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